Stop and Smell the Bacon June 19, 2011Posted by J. in Domesticity, Genius.
June is just an absolute clusterfuck of a month around here.
Mary and Dave have birthdays. Dad has a birthday. Father’s Day, last day of school, end of year concerts, awards ceremonies, retirements, graduations, and to top it all off, it’s the very height of the summer social season. It seems like everyone’s schedules sound just like my family’s, so I know you probably know exactly what I mean when I tell you that quite frankly, I’m exhausted.
I’m sitting here waiting for the bacon in the oven to get nicely crisp so I can add it to the gigantic pasta salad in the fridge and a big pan of onions is caramelizing nicely on the stove in preparation for cooking out later tonight. It’s magically quiet here; no TV, no kids, just the drone of someone’s ever-running lawnmower, the sizzle of bacon and onions, and the clackity-clack of the keyboard. Larry took the kids over to his Dad’s for a visit and in these couple hours of calm and quiet with no kids underfoot and no one needing me for anything, I’m alone with the thoughts in my head.
I’m hoping this quiet productivity is a precursor of the school year to come. Both girls will be in school all day come August and Dave will be gone for a few hours in the morning every day, so the ability to be productive should increase tenfold. As it is, as soon as the onions are done and this post is wrapped up, I’m going to run outside to the sunshine and take a bunch of pictures of some more things I have to list. Craft fair season is coming up quickly! Old Home Day is the first Saturday of August this year (mark your calendars!) and I’ve already got my sign-up sheet for the BHS fair in November. I’m hoping to do at least six fairs this year, so I know I have to get busy and stay busy.
But then June as a month has been so busy all on its own, it seems I haven’t had a lot of time to just sit and process all the things going on. It’s such a time of flux. Things are ending, things are beginning, time is marching steadily on and I look out the windows at the overgrown greenery in the backyard and realize I’m getting old because it seems like the view out the window was cold and snowy just yesterday. And I know that the time between in being cold and snowy again is shorter than I think, and I sigh. Not because I love summer and I’ll miss it, but because the change of seasons seems to speed up when I’m not paying attention. And I’m not in any rush.
Today, I’m going to finish up these few little projects while the getting is good, and then I’m going to sit back, take stock of a life in flux, and try to remember to smell the flowers while they bloom.
Or the bacon, as the case may be.
Sunday Showcase: Hail to the Chief! June 5, 2011Posted by J. in Genius.
Last night was Baboo’s retirement party. After 27 years on the police force and 3 1/2 years as Chief, Baboo has hung up his badge and retired. His last day was May 31st and he’s now a full-time golfer, errand boy, and niece-and-nephew spoiler.
It was a great party, but then it’s been my experience that a room full of cops combined with a room full of our relatives is seldom anything but a shitload of fun. Lots of people got up and said some (mostly) nice things about him, and one of the officers put together a musical slideshow of pictures as well.
This was one of my favorite bits from the slideshow. It was a voiceover by Paul Harvey, so you have to imagine hearing it in his voice:
A policeman is a composite of what all men are: a mingling of saint and sinners, dust and deity. Cold statistics wave the fan over the stinkers, underscore instances of dishonesty and brutality because they are news. What that really means is they are exceptional, unusual– not commonplace. Buried under the froth is the fact that less than one half of one percent of policemen misfit that uniform. And that’s a better average than among clergymen.
What is a policeman made of? He of all men is at once the most needed and the most unwanted, a strangely nameless creature who is “sir” to his face and “pig” behind his back. He must be such a diplomat that he can settle differences between individuals so that each will think he won. But if the policeman is neat, he’s a flirt. If he’s not, he’s a grouch.
In an instant he must make decisions which require months for a lawyer. But if he hurries, he’s careless. If he’s deliberate, he’s lazy. He must be first to an accident, infallible with a diagnosis; he must be able to start breathing, stop bleeding, tie splints and above all be sure the victim goes home without a limp, or expect to be sued.
The police officer must know every gun, draw on the run, and hit where it doesn’t hurt. He must be able to whip two men his size and half his age without damaging his uniform and without being brutal.
If you hit him, he’s a coward. If he hits you, he’s a bully.
A policeman must know everything and not tell. He must know where all the sin is and not partake. The policeman must, from a single human hair, be able to describe the crime, the weapon and the criminal, and tell you where the criminal is hiding. But if he catches the criminal he’s lucky; if he doesn’t, he’s a dunce. If he gets promoted he has political pull. If he doesn’t he’s a dullard. The policeman must chase bum leads to a dead end and stake out ten nights to tag one witness who saw it happen, but refused to remember. He runs files and writes reports until his eyes ache to build a case against some felon who will get dealed out by a shameless shamus or an honorable who isn’t.
A policeman must be a minister, social worker, a diplomat, a tough guy, and a gentleman. And of course he will have to be a genius… for he will have to feed a family on a policeman’s salary.
So in honor of Baboo, all the years he’s spent serving and protecting, and because there’s still time to get him a little something if you haven’t already, I’ve put together a Chief Mike ‘Baboo’ Moyer Police treasury. Dedicated to the men and women behind the badges, wherever they serve, and to the people who love them. Thank you, and let’s be careful out there…