If you see fewer posts. . .

it's because I don't post much anymore.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Schroeder Family Update: Early September, 2009

Everything has been pretty normal around the Schroeder household this summer. We started out with a couple of camping trips but have settled into a relaxing pattern of quiet weekends lately.


A couple of months ago we figured out that we need to catch up on some money stuff. Typically we use a basic budget, but Sandy deftly concluded that the best way to spend less would be to simply give ourselves a daily spend allowance. And we do not exceed it. So far, we have been able to sock away a lot of money. I stopped going to Qwik Trip every day, and am none the worse for it.

I would definately recommend this simple rule to anyone.

Besides that excitement, we have taken the step of ordering fabric to recover 'Beste's couch" after finding a very reasonable upholsterer. Pica to come.

This weekend I am going to Moms with the kids to do some painting.

As today is Sept 11, I guess I should say something about that, too.

Basically, I am one of many people, including New York firefighters, scientists, and others, that the World Trade Center attacks were not quite as they seemed. There are lots of unanswered questions. To me, it is a JFK type incident. I am not sure that the truth will ever really be known. But I do know that many innocent people lost their lives that day.

My hopes and thoughts are with those people grieving their loved ones, and for the many hundreds of rescue workers still struggling with health problems. I hope that they get all the medical assistance they need, as they are just as deserving of it as the soldiers that are putting their lives on the line across the globe.

I will close todays blog post with a favorite poem of mine.

WHEN WILLIAM STAFFORD DIED
by Robert Bly

Well, water goes down the Montana gullies.
"I'll just go around this rock and think
About it later." That's what you said.
When death came, you said, "I'll go there."

There's no sign you'll come back. Sometimes
My father sat up in the coffin and was alive again.
But I think you were born before my father,
And the feet they made in your time were lighter.

One dusk you were gone. Sometimes a fallen tree
Holds onto a rock, if the current is strong.
I won't say my father did that, but I won't
Say he didn't either. I was watching you both.

If all a man does is to watch from the shore,
Then he doesn't have to worry about the current.
But if affection has put us into the stream,
Then we have to agree to where the water goes.

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