Mowing the Lawn

The Democratic leadership in the Senate unveiled their health care bill on Wednesday: the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.  With a name like that, what's not to like.  Who doesn't want to protect patients?  Who doesn't want affordable care? In my quest to know more about the bill, I'm steering clear of the radio, TV and blogs.  Tomorrow morning will find my radio fixed firmly on the sports talk stations.  I'm not quite ready to be inundated by punditry from the left and right.   Still, I want to know what the bill contains.  Until about an hour ago, everything I knew about the bill I had learned from NPR.  It will reduce the deficit by $130 billion.  It is 2000 pages long.  There aren't enough votes yet (60) to bring it up for debate.  I needed more, so I turned to the New York Times for an (unhelpful) overview and have been perusing the analysis from the Congressional Budget Office (CBO). Here's what gets me after a quick read.   The headlines a

I'm cranky. Maybe it's because I'm in an airport for the seventh time in two weeks and I still have one more airport to go tonight. Maybe it's because I nearly missed my third flight in those same two weeks. Maybe it's because I gave myself a full two hours to make the 30-minute trek from my office to the airport, but it took me 90 minutes instead thanks to Seattle's fabulous new light rail system. Maybe it's because the lines to clear security were nine miles long and I had to be screened twice because of the mysteriously dangerous-looking fresh zucchini in my bag (which I had picked that morning from our garden). Maybe it's because I was a sweaty mess by the time I sprinted from one end of the airport to the other in just enough time to make my flight. Then again... I did make my flight afterall and that's something to be thankful for. Plus, the seat next to me was empty and I had a spectacular view of the Cascades. And we did take a flight

Oh what do you do in the summertime, when all your family leaves? When boredom sets in? When you can't stand to look at another Kakuro puzzle or watch another minute of basic cable? When you've read the online edition of the Economist from cover to virtual cover? Well, if you're anything like me, you wonder why the packaging for the Safeway Select™ Supreme Pizza shows 13 black olives on the pizza while the actual pizza cooking in your oven right now has 44 olives on it (not counting the 17 that you already put down the garbage disposal). Or, if you're like me, you spend a few minutes while writing a blog post trying to figure out how to type the ™ symbol. It's Option-2 on a Mac keyboard in case you're wondering. Perhaps you spend countless minutes each evening positioning and repositioning the sprinklers in your yard in the hope that sprinkler configuration #429 will finally be The One that gets it just right. Or maybe you'll amuse yourself by saying sil

It seemed like an easy enough task when I planned it yesterday.  Fly from Seattle to San Francisco before breakfast.  Spend the day in San Francisco meeting with a client.  Slip across the bay to Oakland in the late afternoon.  Fly from Oakland back to Seattle and be home just in time for reading the scriptures and family prayer.  A perfect plan for an experienced traveler familiar with the Bay Area.  Sure, it would have been easier to fly down last night, but that would have meant less time with Thelma.  Besides, Braeden and I had finally managed to get a home teaching appointment with a new couple in our ward and we didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Simple?  Yes.  Doable?  Of course.  Doomed to failure and misery?  Apparently. I should have seen it coming when my alarm went off at 4:15 this morning.  Nothing good happens before 6 AM.  Nothing enjoyable happens before 7:30.  Case in point:  at 6 AM I was staring longingly out the window next to Gate N16 as my flight to San Francisc

(Here's my response to Thelma's moment of irrationality .) Of course it will fit.  All of it.  Every last bit, whether put there for reasons selfish or charitable, whether soft-sided or hard, whether it causes me to roll my eyes or jump for joy that we're finally getting rid of it.  It will all fit. Packing is my super power.  Superman defies the laws of gravity.  Spiderman defies the laws of good taste.  (A unitard on a grown man?  Really?)  I defy the logic of constrained spaces.  Neither trunk, nor satchel, nor man-made bin of any kind has yet to conquer me. Lest you forget, we successfully stuffed two small children with car seats, a television, expansive diaper bags and two weeks worth of essentials into a 95 Saturn for a cross-country trek. Lest you forget, that same 95 Saturn magically expanded to hold a 6-foot oak table on another occasion.  Lest you forget, I lived in London for two weeks out of half of a carry on bag so I could subsequently stuff it so full of you

Thelma claimed recently that I'm " just as lackadaisical " as she is when it comes to ensuring our children have good oral hygiene. Phooey! On a scale of 1 to 100, where 1 is lackadaisical and 100 is totally enthusidaisical, Thelma is a 4. I'm a 7, easy. Seven and a half, probably. That's almost twice the enthusidaisitude, which of course means I only need to worry about my kids brushing their teeth half as often as Thelma. (I know. Enthusidaisical is not technically a word. Yet.) Besides, I don't even like teeth. I mean, I like the purpose they serve. No one wants to gum a steak or drink a margarita pizza through a straw. But teeth are a source of physical and emotional pain. There. I said it. My teeth hurt my feelings sometimes. They have no sense of propriety. No self restraint. They just pop out one day and shove other teeth around in the process. One day you're a cute little kid. The next day you're a freak of nature with two ivory

At the entrance to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, there is a set of stone reliefs showing characters from The Wind in the Willows . The inscription below Mr. Angus MacBadger reads: Offers Sage Advice So Often Scorned. It inspired me when I read it. So, to wrap up our three days in Disneyland, I've compiled a list of lessons, tips and tricks Thelma and I have learned. Some funny, some practical. All 100% true. Let Thelma do all of your you planning. What looks and acts like a drain in the bottom of your Grizzly River Run raft also turns into a water spout when you plunge into the water below the falls. If you happen to find that drain/spout positioned between your legs as I did, it might be a good idea to put your foot over it. Two days in a row is not enough to see everything.  Three days in a row is too much walking and too many crowds. Take a day off between day two and day three. Your feet will thank you. We wish we would have inserted another day at the beach. Enter as early

Note: More photos from Day 4 are posted in my Picasa public gallery . Ordinarily, when I think of Bliss, I think of a town in Idaho . For a while, at least, I'm going to start thinking of the perpetual looks of glee I've seen on my children's faces today. Today was our second day at Disneyland. Thelma, the master planner, had us up at the crack of dawn so we could enter the park an hour early. Brilliant. Peter Pan was a 20-minute wait instead of the normal hour or more. We were able to jump right on the tea cups, Snow White, Pinnochio and other rides. We took an extra long lunch break to rest our tired feet and go swimming. During that time we got the welcome news that we'd been moved to a larger hotel room. Braeden is the most grateful. Instead of sleeping on a few couch cushions lined up on the floor for a makeshift bed, he is now on the top bunk in the children's suite. Thelma is resting easier in the loft with a king mattress to replace the queen we h

Note:  A selection of photos from Day 3 are posted in my Picasa public gallery . As a missionary I learned to warn people that as soon as they began to feel God's spirit more fully in their life, they could also be sure that temptation and trial were just around the corner.   One follows the other .  Light and dark.  Good and evil.  Chocolate and Kraft macaroni and cheese. So, I should have figured that something would come along and try to spoil my fun now that I'm a full three days into this vacation.  It happened tonight.  I saw hell.  It looks like a rainforest, the food is overpriced and the waiters are dressed in khaki.  Thankfully, I managed to buy my escape for $65 plus tip. The Rainforest Cafe may seem like a nice place to eat, but I've said the same thing about KFC on occasion.  That doesn't make it right.  The food was OK.  I had a mild paella with muscles, calamari, shrimp and andouille sausage.  Unfortunately, I was sitting across from a pair of animatronic

As we walked out of the California Pizza Kitchen this afternoon into the brilliant Santa Monica sunshine, I noticed a sign on the church across the street advertising a "stimulus package for your soul". That's the perfect metaphor for these past few days.  Two days into our Southern California vacation and my soul feels light.  The hotel room may be a little bit small.  No matter.  The mattress may be a bit too hard and a tad narrow.  I'll manage.  I have sunny skies, big waves and a happy family.   The beach was our first destination yesterday as soon as we landed at LAX and picked up the rental car.  Thelma was smart enough to pack swimsuits separately so the kids could change into them when we got to the beach.  They couldn't wait, though.  No sooner had we parked than the doors to our rental car flew open and all three of our kids raced for the water.  Thelma called after them to stay out of the water.  I could tell she was frustrated and didn't want them

Good music is one of the joys of my life. What is it about good writing set to music or just the right combination of sounds that lightens the soul? Maybe that has something to do with why I enjoy folk music and the singer/songwriter tradition. The words and instruments seem more accessible.  While writing this post, I'm listening for the first time to a song called Gravity by Eddie from Ohio.  Why bury lyrics like these under an overproduced sound: I've got this fear of falling that I'm trying to overcome. You and I know I'd never jump. Whom I'm trying to kid. But just imagine the sensation. There's no such thing as an atheist on the thirty-second floor. As an adult, I've also developed an appreciation for the power and wonder of classical music, especially when I can listen to it live. Thelma and our kids probably remember the summer of 2007 when I returned from London positively brimming with excitement after attending a performance of Elgar's En