Saturday, January 22, 2022

 

Home!

 

Home, what is it? Home is one of those places that is a place but also a feeling. Let me ramble a bit with this. Home is often the place we hang our hat and coat inside the door. Yet, we call some places home on a temporary thing as we travel or move about. I add that home can be more than one physical place at the same time. Yes, it is a feeling that we belong too.

 


I have lived many places over the years. Some I called home and others were a mere stop and reload. Thirty-ish years in southern Utah at various locations. Some of those years far enough back that I didn’t remember much, except maybe a rock covered house and a cool irrigation ditch. Other places that I have lived there lasting memories. You just can’t remove the small town in someone. I have packed and moved a bunch and ya know home then becomes a new thing. Packed up and moved four times in one year a few years back and ya get the “New Home” feeling a bit scrambled.

 


Home can be that place you raise a six pack of kids in a couple of decades. More than just the house you live in but the street you’re on and the people living around ya. Those memories of home as a place and a feeling there fill a large basket. I have been told since then “We sure miss you” and “your home isn’t the same without you in it”. The people there are hard to forget but the new people you meet are great also. We (my family) consider it home in that area for the memories and that a few of my kids have stayed there for a season. Some of those memories are of a nice place called “Benson Creek”.

 


Many of those places along the path of life that you just stop and reload span the country for the west coast to the gulf coast and in between. Some felt like home because of the people I met there.

 



Yes, I will tell ya that home is where your Mama is! I tell ya even though my mama would now and again send me to the willow patch to cut my own switch she does have a feel of home being around her. Maybe not just your mama but grandma, aunties, cousins, and past friends. Maybe that is where ya attended some schooling in life or for some you got schooled a bit. Maybe that could well include your first date, first kiss, or even your first “gonna die of love break up”. Days spent hiking, fishing, hunting, camping, rappelling, and jumping bicycles built from the junk-yard off a six-foot ramp. Horse swings in the park and a slide that got so hot ya scorched it sliding down it. Even a few nights skating in the “Pod”. Not to be left out an Independence Day celebrations like no other.

 





Home will often change with time, place, size and feel. Home could be a house of four thousand square feet with closets so deep ya get lost to a comfy little house just over a thousand square feet you can clean in a day after the grandkids visit. Love those little hands and feet. Home is where my heart is and it is truly with my awesome wife and family, no matter the location we may be at, at the time. Truly, if you have food to eat, a roof over your head, and people that love you then you are blessed and at home.






Friday, January 14, 2022

A True Eye Opener!


 

A TRUE EYE OPENER!!

A friend came to my house for pie, we sat down and talked about life. After a while I interrupted the conversation and said to him, ′′I'm going to wash the dishes, I'll be right back.”

He looked at me like I told him he was going to build a spaceship. So, he said to me with admiration and a little stumped, ′′Glad you help your wife, I rarely help mine because when I do, she never thanks me. Last week I washed the floor and she didn't even tell me thank you.”

I sat back down with him again and explained to him that I don't ′′help′′ my wife. Actually, my wife doesn't need help, she needs a partner, a teammate. I'm her home partner… and due to that, all functions are divided, which is not “help” with household chores.

I don't “help” my wife clean the house, because I also live in it and I need to clean it too.

I don't “help” my wife cook, because I also want to eat and I need to cook too.

I don't “help” her washing dishes after eating, because I use these dishes too.

I don't “help” my wife with kids, because they are mine too and it's my duty to be a father.

I don't “help” my wife wash, extend, fold, and put away laundry, because it's mine and my kids too.

I don't give a “helping hand” at home, I'm part of it.

Then with respect I asked my friend when was the last time after his wife finished cleaning the house, doing laundry, changing the bed sheets, bathing the kids, cooking, organizing, etc. and did he say: “thank you?”

I mean a real thank you, like, “Wow, baby!! You're amazing!!"

Does this all seem absurd? Does it sound weird to you? When, once in your life, you cleaned the floor, you expected at least an excellence award with great glory... why? Haven't you ever thought about that?

Maybe, because for you, macho culture taught you that everything is a woman's task.

Maybe you've been taught that all this should be done without you having to move a finger.

So, praise her as you would like to be praised, likewise, with the same intensity. Hold her hand and behave like a true companion, and assume your part, don't behave like a guest who simply comes to eat, sleep, shower and satisfy sexual needs... feel at home, in your home.

Change in our society begins in our homes, teaching our children the true sense of fellowship! Make it happen at home…