I finally got a project done in my shop. Yes, I installed the pullout shelves under my bench. Now I can store twice as much junk. Here’s the finished project, complete with some junk placed on the shelves:
Only had time to fill the right side with junk. Will fill the left on Saturday.
Someday I’ll have more of my bench top clear to do things.
Maybe.
I you need me, I’ll be in the shop,
Andrew
A friend on Facebook shared this quote last week:
“It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory that in life” P.D. James
How often is that true – the good old days get better with each retelling and we find ourselves yearning for the past. We remember the friendships, the relaxed carefree days of youth. We remember past glories and past happiness.
Yesterday, Heather and I went on a walk around Vasona Lake and up into Oak Meadows park in Los Gatos. We walk there on occasion and have taken the grand kids there on a number of occasions. It is a favorite place.
It is a place of memories for me.
My mother use to take me there as a child. I have memories of being maybe five or six and playing on the jet airplane at the playground in Oak Meadows. Yes, they have a real AIr Force jet there – a Saber Jet I think it is. Somehow the city got a used one, stripped of all it’s parts. It’s just the body and wings placed on top the tan bark.
It’s still there, stripped of a few more sharp edges and covered with a grey no slip deck paint. It still attracts the little ones. I smile every time I see it. The old fire engine is there too. What fun it was to play on that.
I remember coming here with friends and chasing each other by the creek. I remember feeding the ducks and running over the grassy fields. I remember such happy times here. The church picnics, the family outings, riding here on my bike with the boy scout troop and buying snow cones at the snack shack.
Such fond memories.
As we walk around, I share some of these memories with Heather as a wave of nostalgia washes over me like the surf on the sand. It rushes over my toes and fades back to the sea. Oh, if I could just go back to those times and feel childhood and youth again.
In real life, I doubt I came here more than two or three times a year. There was only one church outing to this place. Our mothers scolded us for running to the creek and throwing rocks at each other. The scout troop came just one time – for an afternoon and I recall getting a flat tire on the way home and having to walk my bike the last two miles.
Still, today, as our world spins into the dark days of winter – I’ll take the few happy memories and will warm my soul in their glow.
Till next week,
Andrew
The PSA
Prostate specific anxiety
Just a little poke
Just one little vile
My future in a number
Just a little number
Just one
What will it be?
Uncontrollable
Unknowable.
Am I doomed?
or am I freed
from the slow march.
The road travels up
and down
Just over the horizon is
relief or the long slow end.
Options, possibilities and alternatives
Crowd out thoughts of
friends, love and life.
This number, in sequence
Compared to that number
Those numbers, other numbers.
If A plus B
Minus C
Growing fast
or shrinking slow
or sameness without answer.
A number
That brings us to a life
without
PSA
This is another little poem from the book I am writing. It comes to mind today because this is the week that I had my six month PSA (prostate specific antigen) test. For those of us treated for prostate cancer this little number means a lot. A continued low number meaning the cancer is contained. A high number indicating that treatment has failed. Well, it’s not that simple but what the number will be is a constant source of anxiety.
The good news is that my PSA test came back with the lowest number I’ve had yet – clear evidence that the radiation treatment worked. It should be party time here with rockets and balloons.
But a glass of wine with friends is enough as I’ve got life to live, art to create, a book to write, and a wife I love.
Till next week,
Andrew
This hasn’t been the best of weeks. Wednesday I felt a cold starting to come on and it got worse. Today is the first day I am starting to feel better and fear I’ll have to go to work tomorrow. You’ll notice that I’ve changed my WordPress theme and I have a new picture in the header. It was just time for a change – I’ve been using the old layout for three years and I think this new layout is cleaner.
Yes, that is me, in my hiking gear looking out over the hills were Heather and I hike. This one was taken a couple of years ago at Russian Ridge. I kind of like the picture. Let me know what you think.
A few weeks ago I mentioned that I am working on a book of poems, well today’s post will be short because of that book. I’ve been working steadily at it and am now about 11 poems into it plus a couple of pages of prose. It’s hard to describe but there are things that take on an energy of their own and require that something be done. In my heart I am feeling an urgency to complete this work that is filling my soul.
At first I was going to just write a short book of poems and essays about my experience with prostate cancer. As I wrote, one poem popped out of my brain about my mother and her death from pancreatic cancer. Now my little book has two parts and nearly two pages of poems titles and various outlines.
I think I can blame the whole process on a recent shift in my writing habits. My habit had been to sit down on a Sunday afternoon and crank out an essay on whatever subject popped into my head. In the last few months that has been harder to do as I have churned through the easy topics. Also, I’ve found myself thinking and writing more in verse and poetry.
I wanted to make a shift so I could keep writing prose. My solution was to allow myself more time to write and research a post. The plan was to do some research on a Tuesday evening, write on a Thursday and post on a Sunday. The first result of that was my three-part post on the California drought (that was supposed to be one post, but it got out of hand).
Can’t really say what exactly happened but in the last couple of weeks, I’ve shifted almost all of my writing time to my little book. Some of the contributing factors include:
Let’s just say that these plus the feeling that I need to take my writing in new directions gave me the energy to shift and do something different. It’s not a process I fully understand but know I need to respect its calling.
I’ve no idea what direction the final work on the book will take or what it means for this little weekly blog. It’s possible I might post a poem or two from the book instead of writing a post and it’s likely that I’ll be turning to a shorter post on Sundays so I’ll have time for the book. But, I do find the discipline of posting every week to be valuable.
It is the discipline of regular writing that has given me the confidence that I can, through effort and persistence, write a book.
Whether or not anyone will want to read it is a topic for another day.
Till next week,
Andrew
Andrew's View of the Week 