The House

Over the last 5 months, a few people have asked about our rental house. This is probably because of our complaining about it. The house is not that bad - it just isn't our Carter House which we really liked. Here is a small long distance tour:







Blogger is difficultt to align pictures, and apparently impossible to caption them, so they are just thrown on a pile here. To preempt questions: Yes, that is an exterior door in the bathroom - it leads to our balcony - how many people can say they have a balcony off of their bathroom?
Also, nearly every house we've looked at has a little booth just off of the kitchen. It is so isolated and cold in there that currently it is my workspace.

If you think that you see a TV mounted above the bed, you are correct. Given that we are in a rental, I tried out an experiment in TV placement and mounted it directly above the bed so that you can lay there without craning your neck to see it. In case you too have always wondered if that would be better, let me say that it is not. Lester and I rarely watch TV, so it is just this black thing hovering above us, and when we do watch it, you can only lay one way to see it- flat on your back. Don't you even think about turning your head...

Tidings of comfort and joy!

So we in the Speer household have a special holiday tradition that we are always excited to perform. It takes place when we sit down to complete our holiday cards and always brings a tear to our eyes. We talked it over and have decided to share it with you, the world.
The back story: After my parents retired and moved away (when I was seventeenish), I took over paying for the house in Roy while I lived there, went to school, worked, etc...As a seventeen-year-old boy, I was into doing what boys will do, namely, quaffing vast quantities of alcohol, having riotous parties around the pool, and attempting to get girls naked. Oh yeah, there was that two year period where I was into homemade rocketry, and when that became too difficult (namely, taking time away from the above mentioned activities) I took up building explosives that I would set off in the yard by the pool, just for kicks (35mm film canisters filled with gunpowder and coated with differing substances for the most "bang" -and yes, I could only do one a week or so without going to jail...) Anyway, all of this went on for several years while I dropped out, restarted, and quit school again and held different occupations. I answered the phone several times and lied, saying things like "No, I didn't hear any explosion, Margaret." "Blew the windows out of your garage, well I'll be!" and "No, I didn't know that there was a smoking crater in my back yard- those little bastards down the street!"
Eventually I grew up, stopped lighting things on fire, and cut down on my antisocial behaviors. I moved out and the folks sold the place and we all moved on (the folks a little further than me, eventually). The man that bought the place needed to move in early, so we set aside an area downstairs for him. I knew something was amiss when the man that bought house the moved in several large ammo boxes that held his things. Since he was a real scary man, I did not open any of them, mainly because I knew that I would find the severed fingers of the last people that tried to look in his ammo boxes. I wasn't born yesterday.
Over the years, I've kept in touch with the neighbors and we exchange Christmas cards. But there is one special Christmas card, and that is the one that occupies a Christmas Tradition in the Speer household. Before we begin writing, we read it aloud and listen to the Christmas Blessing from Margaret.
If you were around while I was growing up, you would know them as the neighbors that would prune their trees, then sit for hours clipping even the smallest of twigs down to 6" and stored as kindling for a cold winters night. They rolled up their old newspapers to use as longs in the fire, too. They were very involved in church support for those in need. The grand kids visited two or three times a year, and she would bake cookies for them and share a plate with me across the fence. In the summers they would enjoy the pool when I was not debauching in it. Margaret was the quintessential textbook grandma, and her husband was a shrinking, balding, cheerful old man that played a skinny Santa at the community center and church every year. I cannot imagine what transpired after we moved, but here is the inside of the card (click to enlarge):
Brings tears to your eyes, doesn't it? Enjoy that Christmas Blessing.

Resurrection!!

Well, after a year and a half, I decided that it might be a good idea to bring the blog back to life- so if you are seeing this, give me a comment. I was wondering how many readers signed up for RSS feeds long ago. I'll post on Facebook that it is up after a week or so to let the rest of the yahoos join in.
A lot has changed in a year and a half - for instance, we now live 1700 miles further away, in Cleveland, Ohio.
Other things that have changed:
1) Sam is a girl, not a baby; she is walking and talking, eats with a fork and spoon, and is always moving. We will be enrolling her in Montessori part time in January so she can get even smarter.
2) Leslie took a staff job at The Cleveland Clinic - it and she are a big deal. If we ever want to move again she will be able to name her price.
3) I am an unemployed stay-at-home writer dad. Writer's block is a big part of why this blog had come alive again. I start grad school in January, so in the meantime, during naps I am bored out of my skull unless I am writing.

Those are the big ones, and for other changes, stay tuned, because I am thinking that the format of this will change away from movie reviews (one does not see movies when one is a parent, unless they have trusted sitters, of which, none exist). I expect the format to illustrate the differences we see as "new eyes" in Cleveland. So stay tuned - more to come!