Give Thanks...Into The Storm

 I spent the last sixty hours venturing into a storm...

Literally, and figuratively.

Friday morning my wife, son, and I loaded up the van and traveled six-hundred miles west. Cloudy skies followed us and for much of the trip, rain, wind, and some hail became our travel companions. Yet, we continued to an unknown future.

Several hours and several tanks of gas later, we exited the road to a smaller road, then to one smaller still. We arrived.

The journey began months, even years earlier. I decided to see if questions I held my entire life could be answered. Turns out, they can, and because I took a risk and drove into the storm, my life forever changed...definitely for the better. 

I'm thankful for taking those risks and for those who took them with me. I'm thankful for the people I met after driving through the rain, the wind, the hail, the many many miles. I'm thankful for the journey, for the destination, for the results. 

It was a beautiful, wonderful weekend.

A Real Live Steamroller...Finally Saw One

 The first genre I began writing was steampunk. Admittedly, I am not knowledgeable on the technical end of steam-powered engines. Even though, I enjoyed early success in writing steampunk short stories. It's a fascinating subject with almost endless creative possibilities. 

Steampunk obtains its power through steam (duh...). The energy created by heated water can literally move mountains. Without steam technology the United States of America could not have expanded they way it did. Our history--everything we know about the industrial revolution--disappears, changes forever.

And yesterday I saw a real live steamroller.

I think I was like most boys growing up in the 1960s and 1970s. Large machines enthralled us. We knew what a bulldozer was, a backhoe, a dump truck, a grader, and, of course, steamrollers. I know the term steamroller and I know they no longer run on steam, but I still call them steamrollers. A quick internet search calls them road rollers or just rollers. Maybe in the future the word "steam" will disappear entirely.

As we left Red's Old 395 Grill (delicious food, by the way...), I glanced to the left. If you've been inside this place in Carson City, Nevada, it's a feast not only for the stomach, but also the eyes. It seems every square inch is covered in art, historic objects, cutter sleighs hanging from the ceiling, and yes, an incredibly huge steamroller...

That one time ran on steam.

I miss steampunk. I haven't written anything in the genre for years. I ought to jump back in, a short story, maybe something more. Like I said, maybe one day they'll eliminate steam from steamroller permanently. I hope that never happens. It makes us remember the history and how important steam power was for the world.

Chocolate Chip Cookies...Reminds Me Of Mom

If you were to ask my high school friends what they remember about my mom, they say her chocolate chip cookies. My mom was always making chocolate chip cookies. In fact, when we cleaned out her home after she passed, we found literally dozens of Nestle Toll House Cookie wrappers...she kept them for the recipe.

And she always made them.

I don't think I realized at the time just how many she used to make. That's probably because it was just a given--we always had homemade cookies around. Now that I look back on it, I think she did it because she knew my friends liked them. The older I get the more I understand my mom, which is a shame because I can't talk to her about it or ask her if she made the cookies because she knew my friends loved them and she wanted to make our house be inviting to everyone.

This past week my wife made a batch of cookies. They weren't Toll House (she uses a different recipe...), but they're as good if not better (sorry, mom...). It reminded me of my mom. It also reminded me of how my friends used to love coming over and hanging out at the house, listening to RUSH upstairs on the speakers my dad made, or being in the party basement watching VHS videos.

I had a great childhood.

The cookies were yet another reason why.

Hoping For Fresh Snowballs For Memorial Day...

 Decades ago my mom planted a snowball bush near my childhood home. She planted it next to a rain gutter outlet where, not only did it get water from the sprinklers, but received a healthy dose of water every time it rained.

When we built a house across the street, we did the same thing, planted a snowball bush where the rain water flowed. It flourished. When we moved a few years ago, we had to put in a yard. One thing we wanted was to do the same thing my mom did, the same thing we did.

So, that's what we ended up doing.

Last year we found a tiny plant and dug a hole at the base of a rain gutter outlet. This spring, we're seeing some tiny snowballs.

Each spring the snowballs at the old house were so beautiful, huge, white, incredible. We always hoped they would last until the end of May so we could cut off some of the snowballs and put them on my parent's gravestone. Almost every year, the didn't make it. If you know anything about the snowball bushes, the snowballs are very fragile. A light breeze could destroy them. We even tried when they bloomed late in the spring to take some to the cemetery. We ended up with a car full of white pedals.

We live at a little higher latitude now. Things progress a little slower up here. I'm hoping that these little snowballs will last until the end of May so we can take them with us. It might happen, it might now. At least we can say we tried.

Here's hoping.

It May Not Be Changing The Time On A VCR...But It's Close

 The old joke went something like this, "You're so old, you can't even stop the flashing 12:00 on your VCR." That joke's so old, it's never heard anymore. Why? Because almost no one has/uses a VCR machine nowadays. Like a rotary phone, a child born in this century most like has never seen one, let alone how to use it (although, the rotary phone seems like it would be self explanatory, then again...). 

Case in point, my youngest's digital wristwatch.

We bought this thing for him years ago and it refuses to die. He's been on a construction site for the past year and the thing just keeps on ticking, though it's not a Timex (another old joke many might not get...). When you use a timepiece for any length of time, it will need to be adjusted.

That's where I come in. 

I've been called in to re-set the clock at least twice a year, when the clocks are also re-set. The other day my son brought me the watch and said something happened and it needed to be re-set. I know this is something he can do, something he can learn, but I grew up with these things. Re-setting them is second nature. Plus, it's nice to be asked to help out.

I have no idea when this thing will stop working all together, maybe next month, maybe never. And as long as I'm around, I'll be glad to fix it for him. 

I also remember how to set the clock on a VCR...

If anyone needs that, just let me know.

This Year's Writers Cantina Conference...Is Only Nine Weeks Away

With longer days and warmer temperatures, it means one thing..

Actually, it means lots of things, but one of the things it means is that Utah's newest and awesomest writing conference is only two months and one week away. It's called the Writers Cantina Writing Conference and it takes place June 28-29, 2024 in West Valley City, Utah. You can get all the information on the event by clicking: HERE.

If you're a writer in the Intermountain West, or if you live farther away and you want to learn the basics as well as some of the finer points of how to become a better writer, I think this conference has something for you. We're trying to make an event where you can feel comfortable at whatever level you're at, be it a bestseller or a newbie.

The event began last year. It was only one day--since it was our first conference, we had no idea how it would go. We felt it was such a success so we doubled the time this year. Double the time, double the fun and learning. 

Before covid it seemed I could go to a different writing conference in Utah almost every month. We're slowly returning to those good old days. If you're in the area and you'd like to check us out, or if you came last year and would like to return, go to the website, register, and we'll see you in nine short weeks.

Sometimes...It's What You Don't See

 This is a picture I texted to my wife a few days ago. It's the front of a crock pot set to cook for ten hours, or, in other words, on low.

There's other things to see in this picture. There's a few remnants of past meals...this particular crock pot has been in the family for years. I don't know the life span of your average crock pot, but this one just keeps on cooking. 

Of course, there's things you don't see.

I took the picture and sent it because I was asked to do a favor. Since I work at home and my wife was away and wouldn't be back in time, she texted me and asked if I'd put a pre-prepared meal in the crock pot and set the timer for ten hours. It's a simple act, I know. But again, life is full of simple things. In fact, most of life is the small, simple things. We go on vacations every five years or so, which leaves all the days in between full of non-vacation days. 

I saw the picture in my photo library and it reminded me of the request, of the action, of the give-and-take that has kept us together for more than three decades. 

It's sometimes what you don't see that is the biggest story.