Elbow Grease

When I started thinking about the content of this blog I decided that I would search 'elbow grease' in google to perhaps acquire a funny quip or a story of a life lesson learned from using a bit of good 'ole elbow grease.

Yeah, not so much.

I have now discovered that a brand of personal lubrication marketed towards the gay community bears the name "Elbow Grease". I literally laughed out loud at my computer.

But this blog has nothing to do with gay-marketed lubes... or at least that's not what it was intended to be about, dang-it, it's about hard work, the kind that bloodies your knuckles and blisters that soft part between your thumb and forefinger. The kind that has you bragging to your buds at work about how productive your weekend was. This was one of those weekends and here I am bragging. These are projects that my wife and I have put off for, well, a long time. And due to the fire under our rear to get this house on the market in the next few weeks, we undertook some carpet cleaning, painting over previous and regrettable master-bedroom color choices, back yard projects, and the subject of this picture: cleaning the grout of our tile floor.

The top brush is new. The bottom brush reigns victorious over inferior grout stainage. I have three others just like the bottom brush, and I'm proud (sniff) of every single one. These are the results of elbow grease...the kind that, if you're like me, knew only of until three minutes ago.

I calculated that one small brass bristle brush will clean about 90-100 linear feet of 1/4" grout lines before it's time for a new one. Yes I am a dork, shut up.

(A quick side-note: God Bless Harbor Freight Tools. These small brushes can be purchased for less than a buck each. I love Harbor Freight Tools)

I also love the results of hard work. They're the kind that make you stand up, albeit slowly, because your back hurts from kicking grout-stain-asses, and put a subtle smile on your face....then run to the computer to brag of your accomplishments.

First Bag!!! (& TR)

I'm sure most everyone knows that sometimes life can really surprise you. Our recent trip to Colorado provided one such experience:

My bag was the very first bag off of the luggage carousel at the airport!! I have never, ever, ever-ever-ever had the first bag and I consider it akin to winning the lotto...minus all the cash and running around naked.

And a second surprise: One of the clinics that we looked at in which Rene could practice chiropractic was very much a diamond in the rough. Imagine splitting open the skull of Don Knotts (rough) and finding a stash of cash (like diamonds...err, you know what I mean.) We pulled into the parking lot and though it seemed a bit tacky, as it was decorated with window graphics that were purple and white and very large, we opened the door and WOW! a very well laid out clinic with fantastic finish work, new equipment, and a doctor that knew exactly what she had going. We're very excited at the opportunity that has presented itself to Rene and will have updates as we move forward.

I also visited with an exhibit design house that I have kept in contact with for the past few months. They are still very interested in me and my work as I am with them. We'll be talking over the next few days to try to get something lined up on which we will both agree. I'm looking forward to see what's in store with that situation.

The rest of the trip was a fun experience which helped cut the stress of the interviewing process. We stayed with a friend from Illinois, Nat, who now lives in Arvada, CO with his wife Jackie. Nat and I are from neighboring small towns and were both pretty successful with our high-school track and field careers. We competed in similar events and I always enjoyed our post-church-service tales of how our respective track-meets fared for the week. We also shared time together during our hunting trips with our fathers, including the near-freezing to death November-rain ordeal. Catching up with Nat was a great experience and I found it amazing that although many years and miles had separated us, we turned into very similar people. It might be a bit eerie, even...but a very, very cool eerie.

We were also able to spend a day with Rene's family who live in Cheyenne, WY which is an easy 2 hour drive from Denver. We finished up our day in Denver on Friday and made the drive up I-25. It needs to be mentioned that the wind that blows from the west is strong, crazy strong. Strong enough that there are digital roadsigns that have messages which warn semi drivers of the potential for tipping over. That's right, the wind is so strong (upwards of 60+ mph gusts) it can turn a moving semi on it's side. And sure enough, about 15 miles south of the border of Colorado and Wyoming, on the southbound side of the road a semi had been blown over into the median and tipped on it's left side. The driver, we assume, had already been picked up and most likely taken to the hospital. The driver's side of the cab had been bashed in and broken glass littered the crash site. There also was a large mound of dirt and grass that piled up in front of the cab as it bulldozed it's way to a stop on the median. Straight out of Hollywood.

After spending Friday evening and the majority of Saturday with Rene's parents, brother/sister-in-law/niece, we headed back to Arvada to stay with Nat and Jackie before our 7:30am flight from Denver to DFW. Let it be known that getting up at 4am to catch a plane after only 3 or so hours of sleep is in no way, shape or form, fun. Not even a little.

P.S. TR = Trip Report

John Denver & Trip Preparation

Every time I think of John Denver I think of Colorado. And vice-versa. So it seems fitting that I have 'Rocky Mountain High' lyrics bouncing through my head today as Rene and I prepare for a 3-day trip to Denver, CO. We are making the trip in order to put our faces behind the resumes that we have been sending out for the past few weeks.

A little background:

This image represents what started it all: a trip on the ski-lift over our Thanksgiving holiday in 2005. We had been snowboarding for a while that day when all of a sudden it began to snow...and it wasn't just a casual flake here and there, it was a full-on dumping. I looked at Rene seated to my left and said, "That's it...we're moving!" It was then that I decided Colorado needed to be our future home.


And here we are, preparing to pack our bags for our 8:05am flight to Denver. We will be looking at a couple of clinics for Rene and I will be revisiting a contact at an exhibit house. We're excited and a little nervous about everything involving relocation but we know that if it's in our plan to move, that God will open the right doors for us. I look forward to what the next few months hold in store and I'll have updates upon our return.

I suck at stories

I have no idea what I'm doing here. I tell horrible stories. That's not saying the stories I tell are of horrible things or events, it is to say that I seriously suck at the art of story-telling. I dunno, I tend to get all excited and forget parts of the story or go on some irrelevant tangent about something that barely has a casual tie to the whole point of my shpiel. Either way, when I'm done telling people about things that have happened to me or things I've done, they sit there and roll their eyes and usually say 'ok'. That's the point where I give my standard apology and say that I suck at story telling.

I hope I'm a better writer, which brings me to this blogging thing. I have thoughts that are usually funny and here I have the benefit of time...and the backspace key.

So as I continue on with my new internet-based life I hope you enjoy my (edited) stories and I apologize in advance if they suck. Just don't ask me for your time back, it's your own fault you came here anyway.