Language Instructions

  When I was young my grandparents taught me to speak Pennsylvania Dutch. Before you jump to obvious conclusions, no I can’t speak it today. The things you don’t practice, you lose. I can still greet you, say thank you, and follow simple commands. I can speak like a 2 year old.

  Maybe you have had this experience with a new language. You remember the first and the last things in a conversation. Somehow everyone seems to ask the same things and respond in pretty much the same way when you are first introduced. When that happens I can keep up with conversation, but when someone veers from my script I am lost and clearly a linguistic 2 year old.

  The same years my grandparents taught me to speak with them they taught me a new practice, they taught me to apologize. I did not know at the time that their people have been well practiced in being like minded, and because of that understood the value in apologies. Looking back these language instructions are an obvious pairing. Speaking a new language takes conscious repetition. And learning to say, “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry” takes equal practice and repetition.

  I don’t remember feeling phony or fearing that my words would come off as contrived when I was younger, but that is clearly an issue now. I would rather avoid, or otherwise massage the situation than walk into an apology that I am not committed to. I am sure that people can see right through my half hearted words spoken only to mend the social construct. It feels like I’ve reverted back to my, “fine thank you, and how are you” “yes, I will hold that hammer” “I would like milk with my wet bottom shoo fly pie.” Same when they know I am being coerced into talking with them. “Grandpa says I need to tell you I let all the horses out and that’s why the cabbage is smashed in side yard, sorry about that.”

  But when I think about feeling contrived I remember my grandfather telling me about accents. He was able to tell you where each person in the community learned to speak based on how they said hello and goodbye. He could have been just showing off for me, but I think he was really able to do it. He could also tell who had learned to speak his Dutch as a second language.

  Every time he spoke with a new learner he would slow down his cadence and make solid eye contact. He would wait patiently while the other person fumbled over word choice or stood silent themselves while they reformed their thoughts to use words they knew. He would gently nudge them to topic of conversation they could handle, and then smile wide when they found the right words to say. What had begun as awkward soon settled into a confident exchange.

Letter home from Lancaster

  Just the other day my mother sent me a package containing letters I had sent. These letters were written during my time visiting my family during my summers of character building. I’ve decided to share some with you as a way to gain a deeper connection and understanding. I decided to retype them for you, my penmanship hasn’t improved much over the years.



July 5, 1987

Hi Mom and Dad,

  I hope your day is going well. Mine is good. This morning Uncle Ab told me we needed to milk the cows again. He let me sleep yesterday because we went to the neighbor’s house for the Fourth of July.

  I don’t think Uncle Ab had ever done that before, he was glad you told him about the holiday. I don’t know how he made it this far without setting off fireworks. He really liked it, and he had some great ideas for making them bigger. Did you know that plastic doesn’t really burn, it just kind of melts and smells bad. And if you don’t mind getting your fingers burned you can make it into different shapes. And did you know that there is a plant that after you break it open you can use it to smoosh on your burnt fingers and it really makes them feel better, its like medicine.

  Aunt Kathy cooks really good food. She made enough salads for 3 parties. There was potato, pasta, warm potato and cheese, macaroni, spinach, broccoli, and macaroni and cheese which is not really a salad but was on the salad table. I had some of each of them because I know you say its rude not to have what is provided, and then I had 2 hot dogs and 2 hamburgers. I had some deserts too, she made 4 different pies with fruit in it and a wet bottom shoo fly pie. It totally cracked me up every time she said that name. Did you know that there is a plant for when your stomach makes those sounds that sound like something is grumbling under your belly. It doesn’t work as well as the burn your fingers plant.

  I really like our bathroom at home. I can’t wait to see you guys. Have a neat summer.

Floatation device

  After my third time warming the bath last night I began to wonder about water. (Every so often I enjoy a long bath, a really long bath. This is a reaction to my time of going weeks without a good cleansing, times change. And I really enjoy my new aquatic learning tools). Floating in the tub reminded me of the time spent bring down trees with my uncles. We would chop them, drag them with the mules, and then float them to the mill.

  Water is the great choice when trying to move a huge tree from the forest down to the mill in order to make some floor boards for the neighbor’s house. Have you ever noticed that mills are near a river or stream? Party this local is to harness the strength of the river to power the saw blade. But another great reason is to float your newly felled tree with the water and not break your back in the process. The current can work for you and carry the load.

  You can also go with the current when transporting your long boat through the narrow straights surrounding the arctic north. The water knows where it is able to go, and the current will tell you where you’ll be able to go as well. The ship’s pilot still needs to be vigilant and watch for glacier peaks, but on the whole the current can work for you.

  Beyond the bath tub and the occasional trip to the beach I am not around water that often. But I still see the influence of currents. I see currents working in my social and financial life. Books that my friends like are the ones I want to read next. Music that is held in high regard by people I trust deserves a listen. The people that know about saving and how to find a deal are the ones I want hanging around.

  I do my best to keep these streams of influence small. Many friends and acquaintances have drove head first into quickly moving rapids of social fun only to find out they need a floatation device. The new computer ploy to take my money and time is not a current I want to move with. Find yourself a group of frugal fun loving folks are you are free to float. Just be sure the current is not guiding you toward a saw mill. That blade will tear you two ways to Tuesday. (For real, don’t mess with that. I knew a guy once, I won’t go into it, but he doesn’t play cards any more, or the guitar. He’s got Velcro sneakers; it’s sad).  All I’m saying is you have to stay aware while you float.

Nesting

  The nesting instinct is real. Lest you doubt, take for example the cardinals in my back yard. (As an aside, I live in an affordable row home in a large North Eastern City, and I have a back yard with trees, I love our realtor). Back to the majestic birds with the deep red plumage preparing nests in our yard. At this time of year the yard is alive with transition.

  The grass is preparing to grow strong and thick, the crocuses are beginning to bloom, and the daffodils are on deck to display their deep yellows. But these grounded changes are slow in comparison to the flittering above the vegetation. The birds are preparing their spaces for the coming brood. Especially busy is the female cardinal. She flies back and forth through the yard collecting material for the nest as her bright red partner keeps a protective eye.

  In her natural habitat the North American Pregnant Spouse (NAPS) is not so different. My wife is one of 10 intimates that are going to add to their brood in the next month or two. And goodness is our house flittering with activity.

  Up to this hour we have; cleaned the car inside and out, built new shelves and subsequently redistributed the contents of the basement, cleared the old growth from the garden, installed new exterior doors, revamped the budget with all the necessary debates and agreements, made a list to track the lists that we will need to complete, packed a bag, assembled the crib, vacuumed with abandon, stocked the freezer, and ordered pizza. It’s been a good morning.

  Like the male cardinal I mostly stood watch and added opinions when needed. I enjoyed the construction in the basement and cleaning the car. But mostly I am here to lift heavy things and give a reassuring nod.

Consider the vegetable

  Looking back over my week I recognize that I have not eaten any meat. I have enjoyed noodles, veggies, and even pizza with no meat in sight. I am considering being vegetarian.

  I’m not considering if I want to be a vegetarian, I know that answer. I’m considering what it means to be a vegetarian. For instance, is there a time threshold you must cross before you can claim the title. “I have not consumed meat for one full month, I am now a vegetarian.” Or do you claim the title and then live into the reality, something like, “from this day forward I am a vegetarian, bring on the quinoa.”

  Image you are on a boat somewhere off the coast of Greenland. You and the crew have been out to sea for many days, possibly weeks. You have eaten the meat rations and all that is left are potatoes and continually souring cabbage in a big wooden barrel. The boat is not in any danger of running out of these and other life sustaining options. But gone are the days of braised rabbit over field greens. Are you now on a boat full of vegetarians?

  Now you know full well that once the boat gets back to shore every person will walk their leather boots to the local tavern for fresh water and a big hunk of an animal’s leg. Every one of them will relish the tearing and chomping of the whole ordeal. But while on the boat they had no meat; vegetarians?

  Or you are on the farm in early spring. Flowers are blooming and the young animals are learning to walk on their spindly legs. It will be months until any of these new young are ready for the grill, so we eat from the bounty of the garden. The season is filled with steamed vegetables and wonderful salads. Are we currently vegetarians, or simply waiting for the day when the bird is plump enough for the feathers to be ripped off and the skin to crackle over the charcoal?

  So if this week has been filled with pizza but no pepperonis, spaghetti with no meat balls, and salads topped with bacon bits that never knew a pig, can I call myself a vegetarian? Or should I wait a week or two before I claim the title?

Penna Black Bear

  Yesterday I did a pull up. For some of you that means very little, and might not sound like much of an accomplishment. Well, dear reader who has never seen me, take my word for it, this was no small thing.

  This is because I am no small thing. Let me draw some mental pictures. I’m built like a Penna black bear just before hibernation. I called myself the Amish Viking, gentle but broad. Something of a lumberjack, not really surly, but burly to be sure.

  Part of the tendency to be broad is my lineage (German mostly), but mainly I eat too much and exercise too little. I should be plowing fields or rowing through the cold north instead of sitting in front of little boxes that light up and sing for me.

  But that has been changing. If you refer back to the first sentence I did a pull up yesterday. Take that you flannel shirt, horned helmet, neutral colors wearing old self. There’s a new me breaking through, mostly in my back and shoulders at this point. We’ll see about the gut later in the year.

  And I don’t have any plans to lose the neutral colors or horned helmet, they will just fit more comfortably.

Sunny Days are Here Again

  In an effort to follow my own instructions, I will now tell you that I am enjoying today’s mild winter weather. If you have not noticed, it is sunny outside. Not just sunny, downright delightful. Especially after all the days of frozen streets that do not allow motorcycles to drive freely. Days that demand extra layers comprised of wool and cable knits. Days that will not allow the bald amount us to walk with no lid. Today is markedly different, I left all of my cable knits and lids at home and rode off into the sunrise with little more than a leather jacket (okay, I did wear a helmet). Today is a good weather day.

  If you are reading this on the north east cost of the US I suggest you turn off the monitor/television/hand held display. I promise not to take too much time and I assure you that when you return Gilligan will still be on the island, the kid with a sword will still be searching for the princess, and our favorite local sporting team will still have a fighting chance.

  But you, my friend, have an opportunity to step out into the sun light, the light that provides reprieve from your long hard slog of a winter. If you suffer from the winter blues you could even add a walk for good measure. If you miss your time in the sun today they tell me tomorrow will be more of the same.

  However take the opportunity while it is here. I just looked ahead, and forecast is not that good. Apparently it will rain and maybe snow next week. It is still February, lest we forget. But my focus is not on possible weather next week. My focus is out the window.

  I’m sorry, have nothing more to say, I must go.