A fork in the road

a fork sitting in the road

I recently came across a literal fork in the road.

It made me think:

  • Did it fall off the back of a pickup, after someone finished their meal and forgot to put up their silverware?
  • Did a villain throw it out their car window to cause tire damage to a random follower’s vehicle?
  • Was it part of an art project, and the artist meant to pick it up a few days later, after it got even more mangled?

What theories do you have about how this fork ended up by the side of a busy road?

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Filling my mind with good

I’ve decided to stop listening to the news.

Another day brings another crazy action by our president or news of a fresh terrorist act.

It was not doing me any good to learn of another bad thing happening.

(I’m not making this a 100% rule… I am willing to learn what’s happening, but I don’t necessarily need to know the details. And part of my job requires me to be on top of what’s up, at least locally.)

Instead, I’m trying to focus on good things:

  • When I ride my bicycle on some local trails, I benefit from the work of trails maintenance people who evened out many of the dips and jolts between concrete slabs. (See photo above.)
  • I live in a town where it’s possible to ride my bike to work.
  • There’s easy access to health care here. My daughter and son were attacked by poison oak recently, and they were able to easily get treatment. We paid cash (no insurance involved), and it was just $40 for each visit.
  • I live in a country where I can visit the church of my choice freely and not worry about government officials arresting me.
  • I have a warm and dry place to live.
  • My family is healthy (now that poison oak is almost history).
  • I have a job that I love.

I could go on. And should.


The idea of focusing on the good is not my own. I give credit to another Paul — see here.

And Austin Kleon agrees.

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Richness that comes with time

We just got back from visiting some old friends in a very remote part of Colorado. Our friends are not “older adults,” as we say in the senior living business, but old friends in the sense of our having known each other for many many years.

I first met them right after I graduated from college. And we have kept in touch since then.

Depth comes with time. We last met up four years ago, but we got right into discussions about heavy stuff that we can’t talk about with most people. We knew that the other person wouldn’t think less of the one sharing, even if we disagreed. (And we agreed on most stuff.)

I’m very thankful for friendships that last.


Photo: Ben scans the horizon from their rooftop. There were no cars and only about three houses visible, even though we could see more than 60 miles.

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

We love our pets

The human-animal connection is unlike any other. We understand and interact with our pets at varied levels. On my little chart, dogs are the highest-interacting animals. Dogs also seem to have the ability to experience greater depths and heights of emotion than any other animal.

No one would argue with the idea that goldfish are the least interactive of any pets. (I have yet to hear of anyone making a pet out of a snail.)

I’m a cat lover. Generally, cats can be as smart as dogs. But cats certainly care less about humans than most dogs do. Or at least cats love to give the impression of not caring that a human is around. “What? Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you were there.”

And that’s part of the reason I like cats more than dogs. Our cat can survive without my attention.

As soon as you enter its field of perception, a dog will run over to interact with you — run to you and not walk.

But what if I want to be ignored? That’s not part of a dog’s universe.


Our cat, Floof loves us, even when he’s asleep.

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Just because

crazy mountain bike with car wheels

The human spirit knows no bounds. Or so they say.

Instead, I’d rephrase that idea by saying that human creativity is unlimited. There are infinite combinations of what we crazy humans will put together. Think of snowflakes. They say that every one is different. Likewise, the variety of what humans can create is incredible.

Sometimes that creativity can go the exact opposite of what seems to make sense — and yet turn out to be a wonderful, weird thing.

However, we do love imitation. When Swell water bottles became the thing, huge varieties of imitations quickly hit the market.

I daresay there won’t be hordes of imitators of the idea of mountain bikes with car wheels.

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail