Saturday, October 22, 2011

Uncles and Aunts

My Dad came down this weekend.  Just for an overnight which is a good amount of time to have people in the house.
It seems like growing up, we saw our Aunts and Uncles a lot.  Both my parents came from fairly large families so there was no shortage of Aunts, Uncles and (most definitely) cousins.  I remember being young and knowing that they were family.  But it wasn't until I got older that I realized that they actually were my parent's brothers and sisters, and that when my parents grew up, my Uncles and Aunts grew up with them as my siblings were with me.  This means all the fights, and unfairness I saw, they probably saw as well.  It seems there are lots of people now, who hold some of the fights a little too real now in the form of sibling rivalries as adults - or some close facsimile of adulthood.  Our family is not at all close, so this seems rather silly, or maybe quaint, but certainly a waste of time.  Looking back, I wonder how much those sibling rivalries played a role for my parents, since the family was a lot closer then?  I can only guess, and I really don't want to know, but it is interesting to look back on those years and think of "those people" as not my Uncles and Aunts, but as my parent's brothers and sisters.
It was nice to have the visit, but also nice to have the rest of the weekend as normal.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Alias

I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this under an alias.  I doubt anyone will read it and since Facebook has taught us that our lives are really truly boring with only brief exceptions, even people I know would likely not read it.  There are still things that will be off-limits, but I guess there are less things when it is under an alias and no one will read it.
There was an abandoned house near where Chad H lived when I was in junior high.  It was the initiation point for a lot of mischief and malfeasance.  This was in the days when a bike was a 10-speed and before beer came into our lives.  Looking back through the haze of 25 years, I remember it being a complete house that was run down with broken windows, doors and bashed in walls but still sound.  Likely it wasn't.  I also recall the remains of a silo and foundation for a barn.  In reality, it was probably pretty dangerous and was a house that had been trashed by tenants or the like, maybe even foreclosed on.  Mail was pretty stuff in a lot of crevices in the house and the last occupants had the last name of Horton.  Ted Horton became my alias on the few times we got caught doing something we shouldn't be doing.
On one occasion, Chad and I were in a wild area near Calvin College (clue as to who I am - geographically at least).  As was usual, we had our BB guns and I recall we were discussing whether we should shoot a ground hog.  College students doing some kind of outdoor project were none too amused and said we should never be seen there with the guns again.  Weeks later, we were there again...with BB guns.  We hid them before we were caught, but the jig was up.  Chad went back to the hiding spot and brought my gun back and handed it over to a student, who turned it over to a college professor.  Now, how to get a gun back, when my parents need to call and they don't know I have a BB gun (and would NOT have approved).  Well, call in as Ted Horton's dad and talk to the professor.  To this day, I absolutely can not believe this worked.  As Ted Horton's dad, I suggested Ted be forced to go to the professor so the professor could have a talk about the implications.  I did, had a talk with the professor about wildlife and appropriate behavior and such; he gave me my gun back.  A year or so later, this same professor gave a talk at our school.  The teacher doing the introduction mentioned this episode and my name.  Mortified, I thought it was over.  In reality, lesson learned and also likely a lesson for the College Professor that an early teen age kid could have pulled off such an obvious stunt.
I don't remember if I threw the gun away last year when I moved or not?  I had cut the barrel down and installed a hand grip at some point, rendering it pretty useless.  Too bad really.
So that is who I am.  Ted Horton.  Living in an abandoned house somewhere near Calvin College.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Holding my breath

I said I was going to create a blog when the old house sold.  It seems like I've been holding my breath for 10 months (or at least the last two) waiting for the house to sell.  Because things started happening about the time I would have gone on vacation (planning to go out west on the bike), even that was put off.  At this point, it is likely not going to happen.  So, in an attempt to get back into the land of the living, I'm at least going to TRY to write approximately once a week.  We'll see how long this lasts....
All I can say at this point, is that the house-selling process is much more painful than buying.  Maintaining two houses is a drag.  And, if I had it to do over, I still would have moved!
So, I'll continue to be frustrated by the selling process, the housing market, the economy.  I'll continue to enjoy the new house (wheat was just planted in the back 7 acres).  I'll continue to realize how fortunate I was and am to be able to make this move and live here.  I'll also keep holding my breath.