Category: Not Thinking

I just bought my first coffee beans online (decaf house blend from coffeebeandirect.com). I brewed the first pot this morning, and it was very good!

Wanting to be a grateful customer, I posted a note of pleasure on Coffee Bean Direct’s Facebook page. While I was there, I checked out the comments of their other fans. One fan wrote: “Coffee. Created the 8th day of creation.”

Technically, biblically speaking, coffee was created on the third day, with the plants and trees, etc. People were created on the sixth day. I think it’s fairly safe to assume that my regular morning routine has biblical precedence: coffee, then people.

Obviously, it’s been a while since I’ve updated anything around here. So, I thought I’d roll out a new design.

I’ve been playing with Artisteer 2.0, and I like it, so far. I bought version 1.0 late last year, hoping to update the church’s WordPress theme. But then I started playing with Drupal and Joomla, and I kind of left it alone. Then I got an email announcing an upgrade to 2.0, which now includes exporting to Drupal and Joomla. The best part is how Artisteer creates the whole package, putting all the files together the right way. Then, all I have to do is tweak the CSS. Sweet!

Anyway, you know I love coffee, so my first real attempt was this design. I call it “EggMonkey Retro Diner.” I may have over done it with the photo icons everywhere, but I love the coffee ring stain icons.

Apparently there’s no documentary evidence for attributing the quote “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy” to Benjamin Franklin, although everybody continues to do so. That being the case, I submit to posterity the notion that “Coffee is proof that not only does God love us and wants us to be happy, but he wants to experience life wide awake and with all of our senses.”

[nggallery id=4]

My addiction to coffee has grown to coffee-related activities. In this case, quiliting. The day before we left for our vacation “up north,” I joined Sandi and a group of women to make a quilt. Just in case you were wondering, it’s a coffee-themed lap quilt (4×6-ish) in a rail fence pattern.

I was able to finish only the top that Saturday. But when we returned, I took the afternoon of Labor Day to finish the back, add the batting, “birth it,” and tie it.

Not sure I’d do it again any time soon, but overall, it was a good time.

Just thought I’d share my most recent screw ups. Nobody died, this time—yeah, me!

Guess I needed a bit of a technology smack-down last week. I maintain three websites, I own three computers and use two more on a regular basis. I maintain the church’s network and desktop boxes. I used to think I knew what I was doing, until Tuesday last week.

I was working on my weekly sermon (two days early!) when my computer started chirping. First time, no big deal. Second time, I started paying attention. It sounded like my UPS alert, but I wasn’t sure. Third time, I started checking the computers around me that didn’t have a UPS, and I asked around to see whether anyone was having power fluctuations; everyone was good.

Fourth time, time to shut down. As it powered down, it started to squeal like Ned Beatty on a canoe trip. Then nothing. Tried to restart, nothing. I guessed that the fan on the power supply gave up the ghost. So I opened the box, took the power supply to my friendly neighborhood computer tech. He jammed a paper clip into the switch contacts, and the fan was fine (gotta learn how to do that!). I reinstalled it, and just for grins, I flipped the switch. The system came to life! So I powered down, put it back on my desk, hooked up my cables, flipped the switch… nothing.

Then I noticed that the monitor wasn’t on either. On a hunch, I crawled under my desk and looked at the UPS. No familiar little green light. Turned the switch off, then back on, and I heard the monitor power up. Poked the power button on the box, and it fired right up.

Guess I have to hone up on Occam’s Razor.

Then there was the trip to Toledo. Sandi and I went south for a wedding last Friday (Adam and Angie, yeah!). Since we didn’t have the kids with us, why not try Tony Packo’s before heading back? We found it before it opened for lunch on Saturday. Unfortunately, my diuretic kicked in, and I needed to find a restroom (TMI? So what. I’m paying for the bandwidth.) There was a gas station across the street, so we went in. Sandi bought a pack of gum to legitimize the use of the loo, and I did what had to be done. After washing my hands, I tried to exit the restroom and found that the doorknob would not turn.

That’s when I heard the clerk tell Sandi, “Oh yeah, the door’s broken. The last guy took 20 minutes to get out using his credit card. I guess I forgot to put the sign on the door.” You think?

I didn’t spend 20 minutes with my credit card, but it was clearly not going to work. I used my trusty Scout pocket knife (as I usually do to get into locked rooms at the church…), but THAT didn’t work either. With no help from the station attendants, one of the other patrons (who apparently had some expertise convincing locked doors to open with tools he happened to carry in his car…) finally got me out—in 15 minutes, a station record!

Anyway, Tony Packo’s, nice place. Good food. Thanks, Klinger!

It’s just as I feared. The “health nuts” are right: eating a balanced diet and exercising daily are the best ways to lose weight in a healthy way.

Since I was diagnosed to be diabetic, I have focused on eating better food and less food in general and exercising regularly. In April, we joined the local rec center, and I’ve been exercising for 1 hour, 5 days a week.

Back in August 2007, I was wearing 52-inch jeans, and that was only because I couldn’t find 54s. Tuesday, July 8, I went shopping for some new clothes, and found that I was able to wear 44-inch jeans comfortably! That’s 4 pants sizes or 8 inches, at least.

I hate getting up in the morning, and I miss donuts. But I like the difference.

Who’da thunk it?

While I’m watching my carb intake to regulate my diabetes. I’m having more fun with protein. I’ve always enjoyed smoked meat (ribs, brisket, pulled pork, etc.), but now I’m taking the next step and smoking my own meats.

Meet the gang.

These are the smokers I use to make low-carb delights like the ones below.

A Boston Butt (butt end of a pork shoulder)

Chickens from Memorial Day 2008

A “Fatty” (a pound of loose sausage rolled out into a log and smoked; in this case stuffed with jalapenos, onions, and sharp cheddar)

It’s not exactly an obsession, yet. But I’m working on it.

OK, my friend Adam told me, upon closer inspection, that he doesn’t believe that this is cause for any concern. I believe him because he is an expert:

In his expert opinion, my bald spot is not a case of male pattern baldness but evidence of previous head trauma. This makes a lot of sense. Apparently I am blocking the incident from my childhood, but my parents tell me that one of my younger sisters once hit me on the head with a blunt object—a steel baton, I believe.

While I am not specifically concerned about baldness in general, I am somewhat relieved.

Now, however, I believe I have to research childhood head injuries and whether they have been linked to mental health issues in adulthood. It might explain some other things that concern me. I’ll keep you posted.

Just thought you should know that my wife found a bald spot on the top of my head.

Sunday morning, before church, she was giving me a haircut (3/4″ on top and 1/2″ on the sides; Wahl clippers—best investment ever), and she noticed a dime-sized spot that is missing hair. It’s slightly off-center, toward the back and right of my head (in case you’re inclined to look).

I’m not panicking because (1) I don’t “really” care and (2) I’m guessing that it has been there for quite some time but has gone unnoticed.

If I have any real reason to be concerned, it’s that I might actually be an adult. I’ve been trying to come to grips with that for several years, but it’s not sinking in completely. This may be the wake-up call. Of course, if a job, marriage, and kids haven’t been able to convince me, a little follicular sparsity may not phase me either.

I’ve been dodging the bullet for several years now, but it’s caught up. I’m diabetic.

I don’t necessarily believe that it will always be this way, but they say that, short of a tattoo, I’m labeled for life.

It’s my own fault, really. I could blame genetics and my mom’s great cooking, but I haven’t lived at home for more than 15 years. The fact is, I’m just a lazy guy who loves to eat too much. Is this punishment? I don’ t think so. Natural consequences? Sure.

So, now I sit and think about the implications. Well, I don’t sit as much as I had in the past few years, but thinking too deeply while walking can be dangerous.

The implications? The reality and consequences of an addictive personality reach far beyond my own physical health. I’ve suddenly realized the path I’ve blazed for my kids is already well-worn; their habits are well-developed, and we’re finding them difficult to break. There are spiritual factors that I haven’t considered, and dealing with them has been embarrassing and frustrating. While I’ve recognized a lack of self-control for a long time in my life, I’ve never been angered by it before. Now I’m frustrated and feel out-of-control. I’ve never felt guilty about the sin that has been involved, but now I do.

I used to bemoan the “fact” that I didn’t have a “testimony” about how God has changed my life. Now I find myself living it out from day-to-day. Seems like a pretty simple thing to deal with, but I’m finding that it’s only the tip of the iceberg.