Category: Random

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365

Since you took your last breath, the Earth has spun on her axis 365 times and has traveled something like 584 million miles around the sun. More than 8,760 hours have passed since you’ve been gone and while the world literally moved on, I haven’t.

I hear your voice in my head like I just talked to you. I feel your presence like you’re in the next room, but you’re not. Maybe that’s why I haven’t let you go; because I still sense you close. Yet you shed this mortal coil and traveled to what comes next; I’m still here, we’re still here.

I thought of you today, day 365. Did I think of you the other 364? Many days I know I did but was it every day? You’re on my mind more in your absence than when you were here. I had a dream about you last night, I do that more too. How am I more aware of you in death than I was in life? You are my brother, you deserved more of my attention when you were here.

But you aren’t here. We had Easter and birthday parties and Thanksgiving and Christmas and you weren’t there glad-handing and making your presence known only to slip out unnoticed before the close of festivities. And still I heard your voice, sensed your presence, even though my worldly eyes never fell upon your ever familiar face. I know you were there, I know you are here. And yet, not.

The world has spun 365 times and traveled so far in space since your heart beat it’s last; it hasn’t been the same since.

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Holden Village Retreat

This summer I had planned on spending an abundance of time on my myriad of writing projects but I had forgotten how distracting summer sunshine can be. Between camping trips, kayaking, family parties, and church events, my summer writing time has just slipped away. While I may not have spent as much time as I would have liked inside on my computer working, I can’t say my time was wasted.

One of the primary activities I had scheduled for this summer was a week long trip to Holden Village with several members of my church family. I knew this trip would be one of renewal and inspiration even though I’d never been to Holden before.

Holden Village was once a small copper mining town located deep in the North Cascade Mountains. Long after the mine closed, the village was turned over to a Lutheran school and has since been used as a spiritual retreat center. To say it is remote is an understatement. Getting to Holden requires a drive up the shores of Lake Chelan, a two hour boat ride to Lucerne, then a ten mile bus ride up a mountain and deep into the wilderness.

Holden is off the grid literally. They draw and treat their water from Copper Creek and operate their own hydroelectric plant. There is zero cell reception, no television, minimal internet (barely enough to check your email on a computer located in the village library), and almost no way for guests to reach the outside world during their stay.

Guest accommodations are simple rustic lodge rooms complete with a sink and mice if you don’t seal up your food. Bathrooms are communal and located on each floor. Meals are served cafeteria style in the dining hall and the menu is largely vegetarian. Several days a week the village operates a snack bar where guests can buy ice cream provided you schedule your activities when the bar is open.

Lodge 4 at Holden Village

Every evening at Holden Village, a vespers service is held where the entire community gathers for a short time. Announcements are made and blessings are given to new arrivals and those about to depart.

My first few days at Holden I carried my phone around with me out of habit. I took pictures with it but I don’t generally take a lot of photos with my phone. After a few days I noticed I began to leave my phone behind. I did not miss it.

I spent my time attending sessions with speakers from around the world who gave insight and twists on bible stories I’d heard since I was a kid. I ate meals with my extended church family. I went hiking and explored the natural area around the village. I played board games and sang songs.

With each passing day, I felt renewed and refreshed. I was eager for the next day, not because it put me one step closer to eventually going home, but because I had no idea what the next day would teach me about myself, my family, and our place in the larger world.

I saw an abundance of deer and ground squirrels. I saw what wildfire can do to a forest. I saw bears. I saw the efforts of a major mining company in their cleanup of Railroad Creek which had been contaminated by the old copper mine. I saw new life. I saw the stars.

While I was eager to return home for some much needed protein I really didn’t want to return to the greater world. I didn’t want to return to news of shootings, injustice, corruption and pollution. I found such peace and tranquility in those mountains and sometimes the real world sucks.

Reentry was an adjustment but I was only gone a week so it wasn’t long before my phone was back in my pocket at all times and I was in the grove of my normal routine. Yet a piece of Holden has stayed with me. I don’t know how long I can keep that spark inside lit but I hope to share with you a few of the things I picked up on my pilgrimage. Stay tuned for more about my trip to Holden in the coming weeks.

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The Trike Project

Toby's Trike 16"There’s no question, my six year old nephew is stubborn. Everything happens in Toby time and God forbid any one of us should rush him along. One of his favorite things to do is ride around on his trike. He has enjoyed ride-on toys since he could walk and it’s not unusual for him to come home with bleeding feet after a day riding around the block. You see, he often rides barefoot and refuses to use pedals.

As I mentioned, he is six years old and growing. Most trikes and ride on toys aren’t designed for kids his age. Six-year-old’s are on bicycles with or without training wheels. But Toby isn’t most kids. Training wheels don’t sit level with the ground so the bike teeters and that slight motion is too much for Toby’s comfort level. Since he doesn’t like to pedal, the crank on a bike just gets in his way. Even the pedals of his trike, which are mounted on the front wheel, bruise his legs as they spin. He prefers the “Flintstone” style of using his feet to push off the ground. He wants a trike, so how do I get him a trike big enough?

I scoured the internet figuring if something exists, it’s out there. Mostly, I came away with disappointment. There are a few trikes manufactured for adults which are expensive. There are a few companies that make trikes for disabled or developmentally delayed or impaired children but again the cost is prohibitive.

In searching online for a trike, I did come across numerous conversion kits. Apparently converting a standard bike into a trike is a thing people do. Again these kits cost more than I wanted to spend. After all, he will only be riding this thing for a summer or two before he grows out of it.

What I needed was a three wheeled ride on vehicle without pedals big enough for Toby and they don’t exist. I was going to have to make one.

I started with a basic kid’s bike. My sister had two of them that were the same size, one of which (a Barbie themed bike) wasn’t being used anymore. The other was Toby’s older brother Jackson’s Cars themed bike (Auntie has to get him a new bike for his birthday now). Between those two bikes, I had the wheels and a good frame. I just needed to figure out how to attach two wheels to the rear of the frame.

20190610_154147Eventually I figured all I really needed was a long axle rod that I could put two wheels on. Amazon was the only place I could find the right size threaded rod (3/8” rod with 24 threads per inch). After getting a few nuts from the hardware store, I was ready to go!

I started by stripping everything off the frame of the Cars bike. I took the wheels off, the crank, and the chain. I attached the 2 foot threaded rod to the frame where the original rear tire went and secured it with nuts and lock washers.

20190610_154131I had to study how rear wheels worked on children’s bikes. They have what is called a coaster brake in the hub assembly. When the rider attempts to pedal backwards the rear wheel stops, acting as a brake. This means there are extra parts in the hub assembly I had to account for when putting the wheel on the new axle. While front wheels are super simple, the axle rod they spin on is smaller than the rear wheel axle. I figured that out pretty quickly when I tried to put the Barbie front wheel on the rear axle of the Cars trike.

I took the rear wheel from the Barbie bike and painted it black so it better matched the two wheels from the Cars bike. I was able to attach both rear wheels to the new axle (I re-greased all the bearings for good measure). To my delight, it worked! The wheels spun freely and the new trike appeared stable!

20190610_155421So I get the new trike over to Toby and…it’s TOO BIG! The bikes my sister had were 16” (wheel diameter) and Toby is just a little too short. Even with the seat lowered all the way, his feet didn’t quite touch the ground.

I was a bit disappointed but I had my prototype and proof of concept. I’m now in the process of doing it all again, this time with 12” bikes.

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Finding my Voice

NaNoWriMo2018In November of 2018 I wrote like a mad woman for National Novel Writing Month. I wrote more than 50 thousand words and was exhausted creatively when the month was over. I knew it wouldn’t take long to recharge my batteries though. Once the winter holidays were over, I’d get right back into it.

The best laid plans..

Shortly before Christmas, the Pacific Northwest was hit with a wind storm that knocked down a portion of our backyard fence. This was the second year in a row we had a section go down. While we were making repairs, we turned on the outside hose bib to mix some cement for the new posts. Ten minutes later, we discovered our kitchen had been completely flooded; our hardwood floors ruined! I had neglected to remove the hose from the bib prior to the first winter freeze and a crack had developed downstream of the isolation valve but inside the kitchen wall. Calls were made and a claim was filed with the insurance but little could be done until the New Year.

On New Year’s Day my husband and I were cleaning up dinner when my phone rang. It was my aunt and she was hysterical. My brother Eric was found dead in his basement apartment. He was only four years older than me. We raced to the place he was living and were greeted with blue flashing police lights. I was the first on scene but the rest of my family soon arrived. Shock and grief ripped through all of us as we tried to sort out what had happened, who had talked to him last, and what had possibly been the cause of his death.

The next day was my birthday and the day a crew came to my house to tear up our damaged kitchen floor. My family once again gathered and we went through what little my brother had. He was the definition of minimalist. What few possessions he had were brought to my house where they would sit in our garage until we were ready to fully process what to do with them. That evening we gathered in my living room and sat as fans droned on drying out my damaged floor.

Eric SketchMy writing skills were put to use when it came time for the eulogy. How could I possibly find the words that matched the giant of a man my brother was? How could I, the sister who knew him least, capture his life in a short speech? Somehow I found the words and I hope I did Eric proud.

I didn’t feel much like writing anything after that. A snow storm in February shut almost everything down in the Northwest. My flooring material was stuck somewhere unable to be delivered and repairs were delayed.

In March my youngest nephew went in for open heart surgery; the last in a three stage reconstruction. I was one of two people who would tag team his 24/7 care while he remained in patient at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Six weeks would pass before he would get to go home. Somehow during that time, our floors were finally replaced.

I still didn’t feel much like writing. So much had happened and life just wouldn’t return to normal. Things did settle down in April and May gave us a chance to breathe again. After two long camping trips, I feel that perhaps now, I am recharged enough to find my voice and once again write.

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Remembering 9-11

For those of us who lived through the events on that fateful day in September, we remember. We remember what it was like at airports, amusement parks, and sporting events. Security check points were minimal or simply didn’t exist. We could go to Disneyland without passing through a metal detector. We could go to a football game with any kind of bag. We could say goodbye to our friends and family at the boarding gate.

Whether you were alive on 9-11-2001 or born after, your life has been affected. Your perception of the world and your feelings of security have been influenced by the actions of a handful of hateful men.

Just last week I traveled to Boston for a funeral. The security checkpoint at Logan Airport was atrocious. I removed all of my electronics, all of my liquids, my shoes, my hat. When it was finally my turn to raise my arms in the machine that would scan every part of me, nearly an hour had passed since I’d gotten in line. My watch triggered the machine along with the metal snaps on the pants I was wearing. I was fortunate the TSA agent who patted me down was friendly. She told me where she would touch me and asked if I had any sensitivity in those areas. I have heard many horror stories of rigorous pat-downs and violations by aggressive agents. Thankfully my experience has been acceptable.

Last fall I went to Disneyland. I stood in a long line to pass through security. I had only my phone and a small wallet in my possession. Yet I had to wait as parents with children (it is Disneyland after all) had their diaper bags and stroller scrutinized. Then it was another wait to get through the ticket gate. It took perhaps a half an hour to get into the happiest place on Earth. This was all on a weekday in October. I can’t imagine what it must be like on the weekends!

As for me, I was aboard the USS Enterprise when those men took something from all of us. The ship was headed to South Africa for a historic port of call when everything changed. My Captain didn’t wait for orders. He heard the news and ordered the ship back to the Middle East, the most likely source of the attack. Eventually we got some payback but the scars remain.

I don’t feel any more or any less safe with the increased security measures but I understand why they are in place. I wonder if we will ever get back that sense of security. Will there be a day when metal detectors, full body scans, and bag checks go away? Can we build a world where a large crowd of people can gather without fear of bullets raining down or bombs going off? I want to believe we can. I want my nieces and nephews born post 9-11-2001 to feel safe in amusement parks without the hassle of long security lines. How can we make that happen?

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Please Don’t Make Me Un-Friend You

Having served in the military and having lived in various parts of the country, I have accumulated a diverse group of friends on social media. Prior to the election in November of 2016 my newsfeed was filled with pictures of food, adventures, and family time with the occasional political post or news article. Generally everyone was polite and friendly with little to no trolling. I miss those days.

Since the election of the 45th U.S. president things have gotten rather chaotic every morning when I sit down to scroll through my newsfeed. The first half of 2017 I felt like I had to “suit up” and engage in debate with people I used to have little to no interaction with outside the occasional “Like”. Thankfully things have slowly returned to a new normal. It isn’t quite the “flowers and butterflies” of before but it has become manageable.

There are always political posts from people with varying opinions, news articles about the latest tweet or scandal. But there are also recipes and family pictures to make up for it. I don’t feel like I have to armor up to see what my friends are up to. Yet there are a few people out there whose new “normal” make it very difficult for me to stay engaged.

I ultimately had to unfriend someone on Facebook. I’m a fairly tolerant individual and I like to hear good arguments about both sides of an issue before I weigh in. I know I may come to a discussion with my own preconceptions but I make a concerted effort to set them aside when I engage with someone who has a different point of view. I respect anyone who does the same. What I cannot abide is someone who frequently posts false or misleading information than refuses to discuss their position on any of it. When the volume of such vitriol begins to flood my news feed where every other post is a negative rant against a group of people simply because they look or think differently, something has to stop. Facebook has the option of blocking a person’s posts from appearing on your newsfeed for 30 days. I tried it out and suddenly it was easier to scroll my newsfeed without seeing the hate.

After 30 days and the posts began appearing again I decided an online friendship no longer worked for me. While the posts this person continued to share weren’t directed at me personally, it didn’t always feel that way since this person’s condemnation was directed at many of the issues I support. I tried numerous times to point out factual errors and I cited multiple legitimate sources to back up my position and in return no comments were made; only more garbage posts. Un- friend.

I like having a diverse group of friends with ideas different than my own. It keeps me honest and it keeps me thinking. When a conservative friend of mine shares an article or makes a statement on an issue I listen and try to see it from their point of view even if it’s one I don’t share. So please, dear social media friends, be thoughtful in what you share especially if you know it might be hurtful or offensive to some of your friends. We are friends after all.

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Don’t Nuke It

There is an expression among nuclear operators in the navy: “Don’t nuke it.” This basically translates to “don’t over complicate it”. In the world of nuclear operations, civilian as well as military, every operation to the smallest switch or valve manipulation is controlled by procedures. These procedures are painstakingly written, constantly scrutinized, and revised as needed to ensure proper safe operation of the reactor. What would outwardly appear like a simple evolution of turning on a light is made complicated by briefings, two (or even three) way communication, and strict adherence to the procedure; no short cuts. In other words, “it’s nuked.”

Navy nuclear operators are trained when they are most malleable, between the ages of 18 and 25. Intense study of systems along with constant preaching of watch standing principles become second nature before long and it’s easy for these ideals to spill over into non-nuclear applications. This happened to me recently when preparing to take our brand new travel trailer out for its shakedown cruise.

I went RVing with my family growing up but my parents always took care of the operation and maintenance associated with the trailer. I never paid any attention to what was involved with things like connecting to a tow vehicle or dumping waste tanks. When we got our trailer, we were given a walk through of all the different components and shown how to operate the various systems. Since both my husband and I are former navy nukes, we didn’t have a whole lot of questions as we understood the flow of water, how pressurized gas systems work, and basic electrical loading while running shore power (AC power) or the 12V DC system (onboard batteries). We impressed the guy as we often do.

After that walk through, I had a strong understanding of how everything worked even though I’d never operated any of it before. We took possession of the trailer and I collected all the literature on the various appliances and installed equipment and began to organize it; then I nuked it.

That’s right, I nuked the hell out of travel trailer operations. I didn’t stop at putting all the manuals in a single binder so they took up less space and were all in one place. I didn’t stop at making a checklist for shutting down the trailer when a camping trip was over. Oh no, I went above and beyond. I created numerous procedures written as if the trailer were a nuclear reactor. I wrote a procedure for connecting the trailer to a tow vehicle and a separate one for disconnecting it. I wrote a procedure for placing the trailer in a camping configuration and another one for going from a camping configuration to a tow configuration. I wrote separate procedures for dumping waste tanks and lighting off the oven. My procedures included notes of caution, PPE (personal protective equipment) requirements, and included diagrams and figures for ease of operator understanding.

If I had any questions about how something worked before I did this, they were all answered by the time I was finished. After all that work I was more than ready for our shakedown cruise. Our trip was not only about testing to see if everything worked on the trailer like it was supposed to, it was also a test of my procedures! They require some minor revisions but overall everything worked as it should and by following the procedures, we didn’t break anything!

No, I didn’t need to “nuke” my trailer and I probably made things more complicated than needed. I certainly don’t think every RV owner would or even could go to all the trouble I did. I want this trailer to remain in good working order for a long as possible. To ensure that end, it must be operated safely and properly and my nuked understanding (and procedures) make that possible.

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Yelp for Help

On Monday evening my husband and I took our six-year-old nephew and five-year-old niece to see Paw Patrol LIVE! in Seattle. These two kids haven’t spent much time in the city before and they thought it was pretty cool to be so close to the Space Needle.

We started at the McDonalds by the Seattle Center where they enjoyed a Happy Meal and I choked down a quarter pounder. I admit I’m not a fan of the “Golden Arches” like I used to be.

On our way to the theater we stopped at the huge playground where the kids had a fantastic time running around and climbing all over the giant structure. My nephew really liked the “spinny thing” merry-go-round though he made no effort to aid in spinning it; he left that up to other kids.

They were bursting with energy as we pulled them from the playground and walked to the theater. We followed a trail of kids and parents to Marion Oliver McCaw Hall where we found out seats on the First Tier. I sent my husband out to get the kids some light up toys just as the show started.

The show was fairly interactive and when the drama on stage began to lose the kids attention, the actors were quick to ask for help from the audience. During intermission we bought each of them a plush pup to take home. By the end of the show they were out of their seats jumping and dancing to the finale music.

When the show was over we headed back to the car and stopped at the big fountain for a few pictures. They spent the next half hour running around the fountain. I really don’t know how they can have so much energy! They wanted to go back to the playground as we walked passed it to our car! It was great to see them have so much fun outside!

While they got toys and a Happy Meal, they also got a memory they will likely hold onto for a very long time. The batteries will die in the light up toys and they will find their way to a garbage can before long. The plush pups will no doubt end up in a thrift pile but the feelings they have for that night could potentially last for many years to come. We gave them an experience of seeing a live show, of walking the streets of downtown Seattle, and running together without technology or other distractions.

It was time and money well spent in my opinion.

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Happy Birthday to…me?

Today marks the anniversary of yet another trip around the sun for this lowly human. That’s right, it’s my birthday! I’m not a fan of birthdays anymore and were it not for the fact my birthday falls right after New Year’s Day, I would likely forget it most years. It’s not that I hate birthdays in general or that I don’t like celebrating my own, I just never considered surviving a trip around the sun as especially remarkable after the age of about ten.

However, this year I feel a change in attitude about the day of my birth. I am reminded today and every day really at how fast time seems to move as I age. There are things I want to do in life, things I want to see and experience and some of those things will only get harder as my human form grows older (unless my friend George solves that whole aging thing).

As I look back over my life to this point I can see dozens of roads not taken. I never imagined I’d be where I am today and I often wonder where I would be had I made different choices. I can say honestly that I’m happy and that’s precious. I have a wonderful husband, some really great friends, an awesome board game collection, and time to pursue interests and hobbies. I have my family close by, a great church community, and really good internet speeds for streaming! That is definitely something!

In the coming days, months, and years I want to travel more within the United States but it’s not cities I want to see. I want to see lakes and rivers and mountains. I want to walk through caves, stargaze where there’s no light pollution, and beachcomb where there’s no human garbage left behind. I want to see monuments and museums. I want to touch the places where human civilization made significant turning points. Of course I also want to travel among the stars and visit alien planets but I’ll have to save that for another life!

I also want to leave some kind of legacy behind. It doesn’t have to be grand and life changing for a lot of people but some kind of mark to show that I was here, that I, J.A. McLendon, lived a good and happy life on Earth. I want my time here to have meant something to the people that matter to me. When my time comes to leave this place, this existence, I want to leave it better than I found it.

Most importantly, moving forward with what I hope to be many more trips around the sun, I want to be deliberate in the everyday choices that I make, to consider how even the smallest simplest gestures can change a moment in someone else’s life. My cumulative effect may not be much but on the off chance it sparks others to do the same, ripples can turn into waves and maybe together we can all change the world. That would be something!

Happy Birthday to me!

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The Last Time…

On Sunday, All Saints Day as it were, a person I have known my whole life lost her battle with cancer. Since her passing I have been thinking about the last time I saw her and at the time I didn’t know it would be the last time. It was probably a Wednesday evening; it was probably a bell rehearsal. I imagine that was the last time many in my church community saw her. None of us, not even she knew it would be for the last time.

Many things we do in life for the last time we don’t always realize it will be the last time to do it. None of us think about the last time we wore a diaper or drank from a bottle as child. Those “last times” are probably more significant to our parents but even those last times are important as they mark an end of one phase of growing and the beginning of another.

For all of us there will be a last time to drive a car, play in a park, and see a movie. On the day my friend passed, she was preceded by a church full of people in Texas who woke up that morning for the last time. None of them realized they were going to church for the last time, saying prayers and praising God for the last time. Had they known that any of those things would be their “last time” would they have done something different? Eaten something different for breakfast, driven a little slower, maybe slept in a little longer?

The next time you hold a door for a stranger could be the last time they enter that building. The next time you wave to your neighbor could be the last time they see you. The next time you smile at a homeless man, yours could be the last face they ever see. What have any of us to lose by making our everyday actions count for something? And what do we gain by making an effort to be better people?

The truth is most of us never get to know when our last time for anything will be. We shouldn’t wait for a mass shooting or the death of a friend to help a stranger, to stop and smell the roses, or slow down in our chaotic lives and appreciate all that we have. When our last breath comes, when our heart beats for the last time, it’s too late to make a legacy, too late to say all that went unsaid, too late to make right any wrong we leave behind. We all need to live as if our last time to do anything is now because the “next time” is never guaranteed.

Rest in peace my friend.

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