tejo
I just learned of the Colombian sport of tejo. In the game, contestants throw metal plates, weighing around 2 kg, at a pile of gunpowder. Whoever explodes the gunpowder first wins. Check out this video, this guy owns:
Best work needed
Forgive me if this is not my best work. I don’t know any nurses, I have never volunteered for anything, and I don’t have a family.
Did you buy that? I hope not. My mom is a nurse, my dad was a volunteer firefighter for eight years, and since I have both a mom and a dad, I think that implies that I do indeed, have a family. That is terrific news all around! Since I have a nurse living in my home, I decided that I should interview her about her job… Here it is:
Q: Why is your job important?
A: Because, if there were no nurses, the doctors would have no one to boss around. And people would die.
Q: Do you wish you lived in Australia, so that people of your profession could be recognized?
A: Nope. I have a terrible fear of kangaroos.
Q: What inspired you to be a nurse?
A: I was tired of being a stay-at-home mom, and your dad wanted me to work in the Emergency Room, so that he could bring his patients to me, and see me every day. He left me six months later though. That was disappointing. But I get a laugh out of it, because we still see eachother every day.
Q: Lucky him.
A: (Laughs) Yeah, I guess.
Earth Hour
Respect the Earth you silly, careless humans. I bet if you really try, you can do so for more than just an hour.
The Earth was a beautiful gift to us from the Lord above, and just like everything else he has ever given us, we take it for granted, and treat it like crap. This is frustrating. People talk about the three r’s. I think we would do just fine, if people just didn’t try so hard to screw it up. We have an Earth. A whole planet to work with. We should be more grateful. If we’re not, than the Lord can take it back whenever he pleases.
Still Going (a story about my father)
Inspiration. I work harder for my dad than I do for anyone else. Why, I still don’t know. Our views have changed and contrasted dramatically over the last few years, and for all intensive purposes I would be just fine staying at my mom’s house for the duration of my childhood. When I go to dad’s, my journey always starts with a sigh, and a “well, here goes nothin’,” and ends with a “I’m glad to be back at mom’s,” but my father is still somehow my hero. Somehow.
Flawless. That is the best word to summarize the relationship between my father and me. Or at least until August 31, 2005. I came home from the state fair, and sensed some unrest. My dad was eager to get to my sister and me first, before my mom. He gave us both a big hug, but it wasn’t like any hug I’d received before. It was a selfish, politician-like hug. It was not being used to express love; it was a “get David on my side hug.” We then went to our best friend at the time, a twenty-one year old college point guard, named Stacey, and got a hug from her…mom was an afterthought. When we finally got to mom, she was in tears. I asked her what was wrong, and got the usual, “Nothing my boy, how was your day?” My dad then thundered from the other room, “Tell him the truth Shannon! You tell him what you did!”
I was bewildered. There had been riffs in the marriage before, but once again, it was a different feeling this time. When my mom and I got to the car, I asked if this was the end. She said it might be. She reassured me that she was willing to try to work things out, and I didn’t doubt that. I did however, fear what was to come. Fear. That was all that I had. Fear, and love for my parents. After a long drive, we reached the sports center, and met up with the other three there. Dad was still very standoffish. I asked him if he was willing to work on things, and got back a crushing, “maybe.” My sister Dree, Dad, Stacey and I played a game of 2-on-2 basketball, while my mom watched in tears. After we played, Mom tried to talk to Dad, and the conversation escalated. Then it came…
“File the papers,” Dad roared, “If you don’t, I will!”
It was like a gunshot. My ears rung, I felt disoriented, not able to believe what my hero had just let the world hear. The next morning, my dad came home, and told us that he had “feelings for Stacey.”
That was the nail in the coffin. Our relationship was torn forever.
After all of this, I still cannot deny that that man was my hero for the first thirteen years of my life, and still has a great shot to win me over again. Maybe he already has. Maybe.
Colors and Things
Black. Darkness, in this picture being glorified…think about it.
Now a mix..
Darkness changed to light.
blog#7 slice of life
The grass is green. He stood alone, wondering why he was standing, but was perfectly fine being alone. The boy did not begin to think of why this moment was significant, just that somehow, it was. The towering structure with the sheet metal roof, ready to fall to its knees for a stiff wind of any kind, worried him. A milestone. Reached. No particular milestone, more like a “save game” spot on the play station games he had played. His father called to him; a man of wonder and enchantment, recently turned to stone, in body, mind, and sadly, heart.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” replied the still-standing specimen. And that was that. His own little moment was over. He secretly swore to remember that few seconds in time: forever.
