Never Forget 2026 Edition

Today represents the 25th anniversary of 9/11.

If I am to think of a similar sort event, this would be the equivalent of this being the year 1966, 25 years after the Attack on Pearl Harbor on 07 December 1941.  

The world changed a lot in those intervening 25 years; the world has changed a lot since 2001.

 

It staggers me to think that it is a quarter of century later.

By chronological date, there is an entire age cohort that was born, attended school and possibly college and is now in the work force, perhaps with families of their own, that have absolutely no first-hand knowledge of the event. They only know what they see in pictures and videos.

Likewise, there is an entire age cohort that was there for all of these events but is no longer here now.

On the one hand I suppose, this is the way of history.  

Events which shocked and changed the world eventually pass into the realm of history, and then legend.  At some point, the last soldier that fought in the Peloponnesian War, the Conquest of Gaul, the Battle of Hastings, the Fall of Constantinople, the American Revolutionary War, or World War I passed away.  Sometime later, the last person that remembered those events in person died as well.  And in some ways, the sense of outrage and anger and grief passed away as well - the real-time shock of such events eventually attenuates for those who have no visceral reaction to the events having seen them in time.

That may be the way of history and in a sense, the way of humanity.  But for those of us that lived through such things, they are as raw and visceral as ever.

2026 Failure Day

Here at The FortyFive, besides all the standard holidays, we celebrate a few that are unique to this corner of the InterWeb.  One of them, instituted this year, is TB The Elder Day, the birthday (and commemoration) of my Father.  

The other is Failure Day.

Failure Day, as longer time readers may remember, commemorates 02 August 2005 when I and my business partner laid ourselves from the company we had started 16 months earlier.

After 10 years in the Biopharmaceutical industry, jobs mostly with long commutes (up to 120 miles roundtrip), I made the decision to set it all aside and go into commercial real estate with my friend of long standing.  He was doing well at it, so I was (of course) going to do well at it.  There was little standing between us and wealth beyond our dreams, and I planned (and lived) accordingly.

Until, of course, that fantasy came crashing down.

In the course of 16 months, I managed to burn through all the money I had set aside, buy a new house we could not really afford, and find out that I was really not that good in real estate.  By the the time the whole sorry story had played out, we had lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in home equity, savings, and lost wages.

God was gracious in spite of my idiocy; within a month I found another job back in the biopharmaceutical industry (with a commute, of course).  And He "unburdened" us with a house we could not really afford by conveniently arranging a layoff and move across the country to New Home 2.0 (which saw us lose all of our equity but - thankfully - not owe anything else on the loan or sale).  And slowly - very slowly - we rebuilt our financial life.

Am I sorry I tried?  At some level, no.  I learned a lot about contracts and real estate finances and how investments work (even if my own investments were not well handled at the time).  And the confidence to at least try something new has stuck with me, even if the stakes are now much lower.

At other levels of course, yes.  The decision to leave the job I had at the time?  In retrospect, likely I would have been laid off within a year anyway (as happened to my former work colleagues), so maybe no.  The financial foolishness? That is 100% on me and was 100% the wrong decision.  I got greedy, got starry eyed, and did not listen to wise counsel (mostly TB The Elder, who kindly did not "remind" me of this when everything collapsed).  Even in my "I have a new job" phase, we could have made more responsible life choices that would not have left us so financially vulnerable.

And so, once a year, I celebrate failure.  Not just this failure but all the failures.  All the times that I tried something and it did not work out.  And remember those things I did not try and maybe should have - because you never know what might happen.

Over the years, a quote I read from Gouveneur Morris (1752-1816, a signer of The U.S. Constitution) in the book An Iron Will by Orison Swett Marden has stuck with me:  

"If I were to wipe out twenty acts, what should they be?  Should it be my business mistakes, my foolish acts (for I suppose all do foolish acts occasionally), my grievances?  No; for, after all, these are the very things by which I have profited.  So I finally concluded I should expunge, instead of my mistakes, my triumphs. I could not afford to dismiss the tonic of mortification, the refinement of sorrow; I needed every one."

I too, need the memory.  Because at some level, what are we without our failures?

Happy Failure Day.

July 2026 Grab Bag

 It is shockingly hard for me to believe that we have already are about to enter the month of August.

 I cannot tell you why I feel like this year is racing by, but it certainly feels like it is.  That is probably a combination of several factors:  A busy Spring and Summer, work (in general), and the sense that (in the very best of ways) I seem to doing something now from the moment I get up to when I go to bed.

For whatever reason, the feeling seems to also be coming from the fact that we seem to have had a mild Summer to date.  It already feels like Autumn, some days.

This past weekend was the first of four weekends that the Grandmaster of my sword school is at our dojo for training.

I am one of the most fortunate students I know of in that I have three opportunities to train with him a year: once in New Home, once in New Home 2.0, and once in Japan.  It is a luxury that is pretty much the result of a series of accidents.

I am likely no better for having all of these opportunities to train, but at least I have multiple opportunities for correction.

(This little dude was not in New Home 2.0, but at my former boss' house about two hours North/Northwest.)

It is that time of year that we have to perform mid-year reviews.

I always struggle with mid-year reviews, especially here as our goals our somewhat...fluid from the beginning of the year to the middle of the year.  Everyone adapts as needed, but sometimes finding a way to link what someone is working on to what they were originally supposed to be working on can be a bit of a challenge.  And even harder is trying to predict if the next 4-5 months will remain on this track or something else will swoop in and disrupt this game plan

I am fortunate to have good people that are doing good work.  My job is to bridge the gap between their work and what we ultimately have to report up the chain.

A follow up to a comment by reader Passing_Peanut who commented on about noting that I have been writing more on Sundays now and the nature of this being a day of rest.

I have alternated in the past writing every day and writing several posts at once and then posting them (as I do when I travel).  It ebbs and flows based on what else is going on in my life; at the current time no matter what I do, my time in the mornings (before I go to work) continues to get a bit shortchanged and I find my ability to write either curtailed completely or being done in almost paragraph blocks.  That works for a single post; it is much more difficult when I am trying to post daily (which I consider for myself to be a good discipline).  Writing on Sundays after church gives me a solid 3-4 posts written and possibly another 1-2 drafted (especially the travel posts, which seem to take the most time).

The pendulum will likely swing again at some point and I will be back to more daily, thinking "How can I sit there and write so much at a sitting?"

Orange Interlude

 

Today's post is sponsored by A The Cat, who insists I have better things to do than write a post.

Regularly posting will resume tomorrow (or whenever I can fully get my keyboard back...).

The Forty-Five Turns Twenty-One

 TB!  TB!

(Me, finally realizing that wishing I will go back to sleep at 0 "It is too early on a Saturday" will not happen):  What is it, HAL?

IT IS HERE! IT IS HERE!  DO I LOOK PRESENTABLE?

(Me sighing) Hold on, let me take a look.  Yup, you look like a computer, HAL.  A little more cobbled together than in years past, but still a computer.

I CAN HAVE A DRINK NOW!

What - wait? Computers cannot take a drink....Oh look at that, it is the 21st Anniversary of the blog.

IT IS! AND NOW I CAN LEGALLY DRINK!

Huh, well that is a thing, it is not?  We made it to 21.

WE SHOULD CELEBRATE!

Hold on, maybe I can find something to pour in my morning coffee.  I was up anyway...

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In what can only be seen as an unexpected and shocking turn of events, this is the 21st Anniversary of this corner of the InterWeb.

I have waxed lyrically in years past about what this blog was originally intended to be in 2005 and what it has actually become.  In short, it was supposed to be this great engine of change and (indirectly) my rise to writing fame; what it became was something a great deal different and probably better, at least for me.

By my count, we are at 5,829 published posts (so 6000 is just around the corner!) and something like 28,000 plus comments. Number of views...completely irrelevant, although starting last week they seem to be "crashing" to what I might consider normal levels.

I have no idea what the word count is.  But I am verbose, so it cannot be small.

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Why do I keep writing?

It is a fair question.  Part of it is a saying I "borrowed with pride" from FOTB (Friend Of This Blog) Eaton Rapid Joe:  "Write something every day".  It is a good practice, if for no other reason that it forces the discipline.

Part of it as well is that it helped me to learn to write about more things, even if I do not write better of them.  Having a semi-fixed or flexible structure has let me write fiction, poetry, meditations, stories, share travel, and things of interest.  And I find that now, I do tend to think of many things in terms of "What would I write about this?"  

More and more though, it is about simply being The Social Internet.

The Social Internet is simply a phrase used to describe the connection of people through the Internet - not in the social media sense (although it can be that), but in the sense that one can meet folks, learn things, and even get emotional support over the Internet.  That is in some forms slipping away from us as Artificial Intelligence continues to grow. 

Certainly time has not be kind in that sense. I suspect most people that had blogs for income have moved to a different platform as a blog is in and of itself highly unlikely to generate income anymore.  Time has also not be kind in that bloggers leave the medium, whether by choice or enforced endings like death.  And I can understand the choice:  blogging takes time and if one does not enjoy the writing process, it can seem like a thankless tasks into an empty void.

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For better or worse, I have been spared - to date - the void.

And that is where my thanks go to you, whether you are here for the 1,000th time or the first time.  Thanks for your support simply by reading.  Thanks for the times you comment, or the times you do not comment but take something away.  Thanks for enduring the seemingly random course of my life as viewed through this blog.

On to Twenty Two!

Independence Day 2026

Editor's note:  It strikes me that on this, the 250th Anniversary of the founding of our country, that this is likely the last "fill in the blank-entennial" that I will see: the Semiquincentennial is is 2051 for which there is an outside chance I will make it but the Tricentennial in 2076 seems right out.

Having seen the Bicentennial in 1976, I do not know that anything else will live up to that. Partially because the country was a different place at that time; partially because interspersed anniversary sometimes carry the weight of the days of minor saints and national holidays for types of food.  

Yet it is still a worthwhile note:  while states and countries have been in existence for much longer, they have also existed for much shorter periods of time - and republican forms of government (small "r" there, note that) generally less so:  the Roman Republic is dated to 482 years (509 B.C. to 27 B.C.) and the democracy of Athens (as a more or less democratic government as we understand the word) for 172 years (510 B.C. - 338 B.C.).  Yes, they continued to "exist" after that, but their power was robbed from them.

How long does this grand experiment continue?  Who knows.  Perhaps those considerations are best reflected in a quote by Benjamin Franklin in a passing question from a woman who asked him "Well, what have we got?  A republic or a monarchy?"  His response - "A republic, madam, if you can keep it" best describes the fact that any form of government that recognizes the rights of its citizens - especially rights that derive not from the government but from the inherent nature of the individual - are ever poised to be overtaken, corrupted, or destroyed.

Happiest of Independence Days to all.

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When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

 We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained, and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise; the state remaining in the meantime exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the  conditions of new appropriations of lands.

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers.

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to harass our people, and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies without the consent of our legislature.

He has affected to render the military independent of and superior to civil power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation:
For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by mock trial, from punishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states:

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing taxes on us without our consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury:

For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pretended offenses:

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule in these colonies:

For taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments:

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection and waging war against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burned our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow citizens taken captive on the high seas to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare, is undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.


New Hampshire: Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton
Massachusetts: John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island: Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery
Connecticut: Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott
New York: William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris
New Jersey: Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark
Pennsylvania: Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross
Delaware: Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean
Maryland: Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia: George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton
North Carolina: William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn
South Carolina: Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton
Georgia: Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton
Source: The Pennsylvania Packet, July 8, 1776

June 2026 Grab Bag

It is hard for me to believe that in two days, we will be effectively mid-way through 2026.  Time seems to both have flown and not have moved at all, yet here I find myself of the cusp of Summer.

(Pictures today from our local Japanese garden; we missed the iris bloom by about a week.)

A 50 year old flowering rhododendron bonsai.  I do not believe I have ever see a flowering bonsai before.

I do not think I fully mentioned that at the end of last month, my job duties changed somewhat.

Instead of backfilling my previous manager's position, the company has elected to hire another individual at my level - or in this case, transfer a coworker in an adjacent department over.  The great news is that this is someone I have worked with since I started two years ago and we work well together.  My direct reports have dropped to more of a manageable level (from 16 to 8).

We are working on separating additional duties.  The next step, for me, is to start managing more and "doing" a little less.

The Allotment is coming along - I have yet to post pictures because (frankly) I am a little embarrassed by it.  This year really feels like I am just throwing things in the ground and hoping for the best - that said, I do have evidence that tomatoes, corn, and beans of various kinds are growing.

The Allotment is complicated by two factors.  The first is a pretty serious shade issue that seems to run 50% of the day (I see why this is the plot that was up for grabs).  The other has been our weather, which has whipped between the lower mid-90's and the lower 50's at night.  If this year is anything like previous years, this all gets sorted out starting in July, when we hit the hot and sunny season until the end of September.

In a bit of a genuine surprise, I was not going to make my minimum 4 hours of service commitment prior to the end of the first half of the year.  I reached out to the co-ordinator of the program and they offered - volitionally - to extend my timeframe, which was exceedingly kind and helpful (I missed the work party opportunities because of previous plans set earlier in the year). 

I have started re-tracking my food intake/macros.

The reasoning is two-fold:  The first is that with my upcoming hike in August, any less of me that I have drag around is a welcome thing. The second is with my recent knee/Iliotibial band issues, I do not wonder if the additional weight I have had for the last year or two have not contributed to the situation.

Breakfast, lunch, and snacks are pretty easy to manage during the week.  Dinner is more difficult, but mostly due to portion size.

Losing 10 lbs is the goal; losing 20 lbs would be the equivalent of the moonshot.

The Small Group I was co-leading is finished.

It ran the full 10 weeks plus a end of the session celebratory dinner.  Most of the credit for the success of the group (and arguably, it was successful) goes to my co-leader, who is a humble servant of God and great conversationalist.  My job was largely praying us in and out, smart quips, and (very) occasional insights.

We have a couple of activities planned for the Summer, then plan to merge into the larger men's organization come Autumn.

Numbers And Views

 One of the ongoing "surprises" as someone who writes on Blogger is the rather vast difference between the views I am supposedly getting versus the actual views I see.  For example, here are today's (26 June) numbers:

And here, the grand all time total:

Wow!  Look at that climb starting 2025!  You would think at this rate, I would be some kind of award winning writer.  

Sadly, no.

Earlier this year, Google seemed to have a glitch whereby links to the most current post were offset by a day or two.  I could notice the difference:  unless I went out to "the usual suspects", I would not have known that they had updated their blogs.  Based on that impact, I started - as a lark - to track how my individual posts were doing.

I have about six weeks of data or so (I say "or so", as I did not remember to record the numbers every day).  Some interesting highlights:

1)  Generally, my "Open posts" (Monday/Friday/Saturday) an average 92 views.

2) Travel (Tuesday,/Wednesday) generates an average of 42 views.

3)  Haikus (Thursday) generate an average of 47 views.

4)  A Year Of Kindness (Sundays) generates an average of 70 views.

I do not know there is much to read into that, as (generally speaking) my travel posts have much less text and many more pictures.  What I do find interesting though is that big disconnect between a daily count on the post and a daily count of total views.  For example (again, at time of writing) the past 24 hours which had a crossed two posts has 96 post views, yet 12,375 views total.

It makes me wonder:  Who are these other 12, 279 people (or entities, I guess) that looked at my post in the last 24 hours?  What did they look at  (older things, apparently)?  Was I a better writer then or now?  Or is simply that I, like many others, are somehow caught in the crosshairs of spamming and scraping?

It is all just data, of course - except everyone that actually reads this blog.  You are who I get up in the morning to write for.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your continued support.

Father's Day 2026

It occurred to me as I was thinking about today's post on kindness (it being Sunday and all), that it was also Father's Day.  And while I can always do a post on kindness on Sundays, I cannot always do a post of Father's Day.  

Usually when a thought sticks in my head like this, it is for a reason.

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My father TB The Elder and I were, as I thought growing up, little enough alike.

In retrospect - 50 odd years later - I have come to understand that my father and I did not know how to interact with each other.  He was man "in the world" as it were, a world of physical labor and leisure sports and working outside and doing things one's self, an extrovert who could approach any situation.  I growing up was quite a different sort:  quiet, shy, lost in books about fables and fairy tales and fantasy, a child of imagination who excelled at school work but not much else, an introvert who would hide at any opportunity.

Over the course of decades, as I have written here, we came to better relationship place.  I learned far more than I realized about his background growing up and how that had shaped him; he was a changed man after a near encounter with death through pneumonia changed his view of life (to be fair, retiring helped a lot as well as much of the "have to" disappeared).  He picked up the habit of reading the occasional book, which he had never done when I was growing up; I tentatively wandered into the world of doing some things for myself.

At some point he found out he was depressed - and talked openly about it.  I have (and do) struggle with depression as well.  We found a point of connection there, even if we never talked about it.

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For all of the fact that my father did not understand what I did all the time, he supported me and my sister in all of our activities (as did my mother). It is quite likely he did not miss a single junior high sporting event for either myself or my sister.  No band performance or musical or play went by in high school without him being there. And even when I moved away and out in the world, he checked in regularly as to my activities and how things were going.

His support of my mother in her Alzheimer's diagnosis is also well documented here; from 2015 through 2021 he remained her primary caregiver.  He took care of my mother.  He learned to do the domestic things my mother had done for years:  cooking, cleaning, the finances, even washing clothes - while maintaining the Ranch and ensuring my mother kept contact with others and the firewood was cut high and dry for the Winter.

I could not possibly have had a better long term example of what being a father and husband is, even with his flaws (which, as his son, I carry too).

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I know not everyone has the same privilege that I had to have a good father as a good provider and example.  And I know that in some cases, others have stepped in when their own fathers could or would not:  uncles, cousins, the fathers of friends, coaches, bosses, even sometimes random strangers.  Sometimes these men had a reason through blood or relationship; sometimes it was simply the right thing for them to do.

They, too, should be honoured on this day.

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It is easy to feel sometimes that fathers are overlooked in the modern world.  Oftentimes, at least to me, it seems that they are less acknowledged and less seen, demonstrated no more clearly than in the differences between Mother's Day and Father's Day.  Mother's Day is advertised weeks in advance and has all kinds of gala and fanfare and a multitude of ways to honour and celebrate her.  Father's Day tends to end up acknowledge the Friday before, usually with gift suggestions of grilling equipment, sporting goods, or the ubiquitous tie.

Which is a shame, really.

Good men need good examples - maybe not perfect ones to be sure, but good ones. Ones that are around more often than the snippets of entertainment that we so often consume now.  And that can start with -at least in my view - good fathers.

So if you are a father, or have acted like a father to someone one, Happy Father's Day.  Keep on keeping on, knowing that you are making an influence, even if you do not always feel it.

May 2026 Grab Bag

 One of the pleasant surprises of New Home 2.0 is that there are a great many parks (local and state) that are within easy commute distance.  Today's pictures are taken from a park we visited last Saturday, a very nice 2.2 mile hike and done in time for breakfast.

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Not going to The Ranch this month was not as bad as I thought it might be.

More or less, I have been traveling there regularly for almost 6 years on a monthly basis, so I anticipated that might be some kind of shock when I did not head out as I have in the past.

In point of fact, since the closing The Ranch has not entered my mind much at all.  I am not sure whether to be alarmed or concerned by that - perhaps both.  That something that was a big part of my life has effectively disappeared and it has not created more angst at this point genuinely surprises me.

We have certainly had plenty to do here in New Home 2.0 to fill up the time.  Life, it seems, moves on.

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I have been re-reading Paul Rahe's The Grand Strategy of Ancient Sparta series again.

The series starts with the foundation of Sparta in the Dark Ages of Greece and continues down through the end of Peloponnesian War (404 B.C.)  (One more book is planned to cover the Spartan Hegemony 404 -371 B.C.).

Rahe is a good writer and his documentation is fabulous; each book has pages and pages of cited endnotes.  He does theorize some, but only based on sources that he presents so one can clearly see his chain of thought.

The story of Sparta is both weird and fascinating, a state that was a mystery even to the other Greek States of their time and something very different from everything else that existed at the time.  Reading Rahe's theory on why they acted as they did makes more sense now on the second reading than the first, understanding that given the nature of the state (slaves, or helots, outnumbered the Spartiates by between 5 and 7 to 1), everything was organized around preventing a slave revolt and (after the 6th Century B.C.) in keeping the peace in the Peloponnese specifically and the greater Greek peninsula generally.

Understanding the "why" of a thing makes behaviours more clear.

The series itself currently is likely around 2,000 pages plus endnotes.  Highly recommended.

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The Community Garden Allotment continues apace.

I have yet to post pictures, because I am still not sure that anything, let alone everything, is going to make it.  Even now, we have cool evenings and have not really topped 80 F on a regular basis - pleasant for living, maybe not so much for gardening.

I have been experimenting a bit based on what I see other gardeners doing, putting down some small paths covered with wood chips and exposing the soil more than I was wont in New Home - given the temperature change, it seems to be the thing.

I have at least one more set of planting to do, more corn and soybeans and possibly potatoes (my first potato planting was a complete bust).

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One of the things that the Memorial Day weekend brought to light was how much I do not care for my job at this point.

In lots of ways it is still good - the pay is good, the benefits are good, my coworkers are engaging, the work is important.  But having a weekend where we got to chose what to work on or not work on, not having to go in at a specific time or leave late, and not having to argue about the 102 minor points that are part of the job but in the scope of things will matter not at all - all of this makes me yearn more and more to just be done.

I am not there yet.  But these types of weekends keep pushing me farther down that road.

Memorial Day 2026

 

(Hat tip, as always, to Old AF Sarge for keeping this day in my memory.)

April 2026 Grab Bag

 (Grab bag is a bit early this month due to the publishing schedule).

This week, as it turns out, is that of the sort that one celebrates once a year to hail the passage of another year around the sun.  My request this year was a trip to the coast, thus the pictures below.

The ability to say I am in my "mid to late 50's" is rapidly drawing to a close.

In a reversal, I ordered lunch first and then a salad for dessert.

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Our curling season is almost done:  our classes finished this past Sunday and our last league game (of three) is this coming Tuesday.  It has been quite an enjoyable time: my coworkers and I are definitely better than we started out 1.5 months ago, and the sport itself has all the elements of any great sport in that you can likely work aspects of your form for years, and that does not even begin to discuss the strategic aspects (which are surprisingly many and varied).

The club closes down for the Summer due to the fact the facility - a converted light industrial space - cannot be kept at temperature, or at least in a manner that is not the GDP of a small country. The ice will be melted down, only to reappear in October for the start of another season.

My coworkers and I will definitely be back.

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For the first time in almost 6 years, I will not be making a flight to Old Home and The Ranch next month, let alone anywhere.

On the one hand, I am not as sad about this as I might have expected: given the increasing costs of airline transport (I saw yesterday another airlines is announcing up to 20% price increases due to fuel costs), there is a very real financial benefit to not traveling.  And the prospect of a full month with all weekends here in New Home 2.0 for the first time in a long time is something I am both excited about and having to work my way through mentally: it is odd to think of being here "straight on until morning".

I have one trip booked for travel back to New Home for an Iaijutsu seminar and one to get to the start of our hike in August.  Beyond that, the only other travel I am potentially aware of this year is my Aunt Pat's funeral, whenever that is.

Welcome to a Brave New World.  

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Spring seems to have finally sprung.  Although our temperatures are still well below what I am used to at this time of the year - mid 50's and 60's - we moving straight into the mid 70's starting this week.

I strongly suspect, if the weather holds out, planting at The Allotment will happen this coming Saturday.

Bonus picture:  J The Rabbit sends end of April greetings!

The Passing Of My Aunt

 My Aunt Pat passed on Sunday.

You might remember that she had a rough go the last two years:  first a cancer diagnosis (two different cancers), then a heart attack in reaction to her first chemotherapy treatment, then a series different chemotherapy sessions in which she seemed to rally a bit.

She stopped chemotherapy in December so she could have a Christmas feeling somewhat normal.  As it turned out, it was her last chemotherapy session.  A diabetic, she developed sores on her feet and the infection prevented her treatments from restarting.  And the cancer aggressively returned.

We had the opportunity to stop by and see her when we were up at The Ranch packing up the Barn.  She was, as she had ever been, awake and involved in the conversation.  It was good to see her, as always.

She entered hospice the Friday past as she had stopped eating and was having problems supporting her weight.

The doctor at initial diagnosis gave her 3 to 18 months.  She made it to 15.

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My Aunt, as the saying goes, was a complicated person (as we all are, I have come to understand).

Her childhood and early life remains a mystery to me; she seldom spoke of it in my hearing.  She "arrived", as it were, when she married my Uncle, my mother's older brother.  Wife of a military man, she traveled with him as they went to various stations: Kaua'i, White Sands, Japan, Norway, and a final stint in San Diego before moving back to The Ranch.  She had three sons, who were for most of my life the closest cousins that I had.

My Aunt was very concerned with creating a good atmosphere - a help when your husband is a Naval Officer.  I always remember her houses being elegantly and tastefully decorated, the meals having all the right plates and silverware.

By the time they moved back to The Ranch, my sister and I were finishing up high school.  We saw them on family holidays, all the more so when (with the passing of my maternal grandmother) she began sponsoring the Family Day Christmas Dinner (which were, unsurprisingly, filled with some exotic and delicious things to eat).  She extended that celebration easily another 20 years, until relocation and grown up 2nd generation children started having lives of their own.  It gave a little life back to The Ranch, where I remember from my childhood my Great Aunt and Uncle having Christmas celebrations with 70 people or more there.  

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It does not escape me that my Aunt's death falls on the same week as the closing of The Ranch.  I certainly cannot attribute one to the other, but it gives a certain finality to the nature of things.  I had personally committed to making sure I visited monthly as long as my Aunt was alive; I owed her that.  Her passing, and the passing of The Ranch to other hands, punctuates the fact that the visit two weeks ago was, the final visit in more ways than one.

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With her passing, I now have a single living Aunt on TB The Elder's side.

Of that generation on my mother's side (the side we were always closer to), there remains only my Uncle and a handful (less than five) of the children of my maternal grandmother and her sisters.  The remaining are all in the 70's and 80's at this point.  The next generation more or less started with me.

It is an odd place, this sense of finality and in a way aloneness, but one that has slowly build over the years.  First the passing of one's grandparents and their generation of great aunts and uncles, then of one's parents and their generation.  

And then, slowly into one's own generation.

This is the way life has always been, at least in the "good" times, where parents outlived their children and people lived into their 70's and 80's and beyond.  For all that age brings, it is a good reminder to me that it remains a privilege to grow old, a privilege many do not obtain.

Ave atque Vale, Aunt.  May we meet again in happier climes

 

2026 March Grab Bag

This Monday is my manager's last full day of work.  I know that because, although she is working through the 31st, I now have an appointment at 0900 on 31 March to take back her computer, badge, and phone.    The reality of the event can no longer be escaped.

We had a very nice department dinner for her last Wednesday with all of our group attending after hours, a wonderful testament to her influence and the team she has built.  It strikes me that we do not do enough non-related work activities; it is good to talk to your coworkers as people, not just as fellow employees in the office environment.

In about two weeks we should know the next steps how leadership is handling this.  

Also, in a not unrelated note, starting this week I will have 8 hours a week of one on one meetings.  It was a practice my manager had with her employees and I now have with mine.  It helps to keep an active pulse on people in a way I may not be able to do on a daily basis.

Needless to say, my own work schedule and tasks need to get refocused as well.

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I am, somewhat to my own surprise, co-leading another small group.

You might recall that in the Autumn of 2024, I attended a 10 week group at what was my then church.  It was a remarkable experience; I do not think I have experienced a small group like it: 9 men, openly sharing their journeys to God and participating in a study on the basics of Christianity.  It was remarkable enough that, 1.5 years later, we still continue to meet together for a weekly bible study.

I had thought after my stint doing the seven week small group last Autumn, I was done - or at least, had no intentions of leading anything else.  Except when the pastor of your church reaches out to you directly and asks if you would consider co-leading a group (with one of the men from that initial 2024 group).

We start April 9th.

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In what can be one of the only times I have actually been on the cutting edge of a trend, I am mid-way through a six week series of classes on curling.

The sign-up was a bit of a lark from one of my coworkers.  The Olympics helped in this regard; I actually knew what I was getting into.

The classes are about 3 hours, with 45 minutes of classroom and the rest of the time out on the ice.  We have been practicing basic skills like taking off from the hack (the small black item on the ice like a runner's block), balancing on the release, releasing a stone, the basics of sweeping (I still have no idea what I am doing), and the basics of strategy.

My co-workers and I enjoy it enough that we are registering for a three game Spring league.  We will be complete novices, but it is a great way to spend a few hours.  Also, like lots of "Fringe Sports", the people are really nice.

I have not purchased any specific equipment - yet.  Let us see where the league leads us.

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The last bits of the Ranch sale continue apace.  Last week, the wells were chlorinated.  Unsurprisingly, the finance company also wanted the walls of the pumphouse with the mold replaced.  As far as I know, those are the last two items, along with the relocation of all materials in the barn and the Cabin being empty (in good news, Uisdean Ruadh has a place to go).

I have not ever white knuckled the economic reports before, but I am now.  We literally just need 22 days at this point.

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Nighean Gheal is headed back to the Big Big City.

You may recall that she completed her year teaching English in South Korea and decided not to renew.  She has been floating a bit since September, staying at the house in New Home and doing some on-line tutoring to pay the bills.  She was looking at a couple of possible job fields and possibly staying in New Home, but New Home is not convenient if you do not drive or have a car.

As it turns out, Nighean Bhan's fiancé's sister is moving out of her room in the Big Big City.  I am reliably informed by those in the know that it is a good deal in a reasonable neighborhood.  Nighean Gheal thrives in an urban environment.  She already has a friend group there from living there before and a series of interests she can plug back into.  She is pursuing a job teaching English as a Second Language, something which she seems to be good at and have a passion for.  She flies out this Wednesday.

At this rate, I may end up for a visit there, something I have been trying to avoid for most of my life.  Unlike Nighean Gheal, I begrudgingly visit cities or live in them. 

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This past weekend I went to our local Japanese garden as it was reaching peak blossom season.  It deserves a fuller pictorial essay (coming soon), but here are a few pictures to whet your interest:

TB The Elder Day

You have may have heard of the idea of "work spouses", the concept that there are individuals that we work with that essentially become the working equivalent of our spouse due to the time we spend with them on a weekly basis and the degree of closeness that one acquires in working with a particular set of people over the years.  I have, somewhat in the same fashion, apparently acquired "work children".

The request came about innocently enough, a younger coworker (arguably 90% of my worksite is younger than I am) with whom I spent a lot of time in work and discussion asked me out of the blued "Would you be my work dad?"

Well, sure, I said after I thought about it for a bit.  My one condition was that they are financially independent; I pay for nothing. But if they just wanted someone to lend an ear or fill in occasional words that maybe had some wisdom in them from time, I was up for the job.

I started with one "adopted" daughter.  I now have three.

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Last month, one of my new "children" popped an invite on my calendar entitled "Lunch with Dad". It was not a big deal - lunch at a chain close to our place of work - but I have confess it tickled me to no end.  After all, Na Clann are thousands of miles away (literally) and I see them now twice or thrice a year.  A "Dad date", even with bright young women not your own genetically who - for reasons unknown to me - are willing to call you "Dad" even jokingly warms my heart.

This month, looking at the calendar, I picked a Friday for another "Lunch with Dad" date.  And then I looked at the date.  It was the day after my father's birthday.

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TB The Elder, for those that may be of newer vintage here, was my father (thus, I am TB - although arguably, not TB The Younger).  I do not suppose I have a better introduction to him than the eulogy for his funeral (at least, at the macro level).

He and I had what is likely a more common father/son experience than I had believed when I was much younger.  I used to think we were not alike at all growing up; I think we were more alike in spirit than I realized although in manifested in what we did.  We "graduated" from that experience sometime in my mid to late twenties (more due to my inability to grow up than a failure on his part), and sometime in my mid to late thirties reached a far better relationship - although we never really shared the same interests, we could at least communicate about them in a way that showed interest and got the message across.  Over time, he came to realize that he himself struggled with depression (which I have for most of my life, which was an insight into perhaps where mine came from) and even anger issues, which he apologized for.

Over the last few years, I have realized that I am like him far more than I have thought:  a self-thought and personality tested introvert, I have learned to be as social as he ever was.  I can make "smart" comments in the same way to generate laughs.  We cared and care about different aspects of Nature.  We were and are really both homebodies. Sometimes, we struggle with our religion (as my father said for many years, he was not sure that he believed but he went to church because my mother did).  And I always, always have the example of him acting as the primary caregiver of my mother for 7 years as her Alzheimer's grew worse - until finally, after she was safely in a memory facility, his own body and mind gave out as well.

If there is interest, most of my interactions of that time are located here.

It was shocking to me to look are realize that this July will have been four years since his passing - honestly, I would have pegged it at only two.  How time gets away from us.

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 Here at The Forty-Five, we celebrate a series of holidays which are in some cases the equivalent of local regional holidays, the sorts of things that a town or region might do.  One of these is, of course Failure Day (02 August), a day to celebrate failures.  Added to the pantheon will now be 11 March (my father's birthday), hereafter known as TB The Elder Day.

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My adopted "daughters" asked me why I had chosen the Friday (tomorrow) for lunch. I simply said that was the day after my father's birthday, and it seemed a good enough reason to celebrate.  And I sent them his obituary.

One of them responded back:  "Wow.  Good men raising good men".

I do not know that I am good man.  But I have seen at least one.

A 2026 Reading Plan (Of Sorts)

 One of the unexpectedly pleasant things that has come to happen at the end of the year is the sharing of reading lists.  I am grateful to FOTB (Friends-Of-This-Blog) Leigh, Bob (x2), and Kev for sharing theirs.   Which prompted me to share mine.

That said, one of the things that impressed me about the lists of others was that intentionally or unintentionally, they seemed to follow some kind of plan, be it a theme, period, or author.  That is usually somewhat different than how I address things, so it got me to thinking about a slightly more organized reading program for 2026.

I suppose the good news is that I have a rather full library to pull from, so finding "Themes for Reading" will not be hard.  This is what is currently planned:

1) Japanese Martial Arts/Culture:  Maybe no surprise as I have also listed passing the JPLT N4 test as a goal this year, but between that and my Iaijutsu,  it would not be a bad idea to "settle back in" as it were.

By my count, I have well over 100 volumes dealing with aspects of Japanese history, culture, literature, and martial arts - easily enough to constitute a full reading program.

2)  20th Century Christian Writers (C.S. Lewis, Francis Schaeffer, Leslie Newbigin, G.K. Chesterton): It occurs to me that I need to go back and re-read some of the great 20th Century Christian Writers - all a lot smarter than I am and better writers to boot.  Lewis, Schaeffer, Newbigin, Chesterton - these were men that grappled with the hard intellectual issues and were able to write well on them.  I need this sort of re-direction (as it were) in my life.

3) Wendell Berry:  One of the things that showed up at the end of last year was that I really enjoy Wendell Berry but have not read enough of him, beyond his three books that I own.  My goal is to rectify that by not only re-reading the works of his that I own, but some of the others (poetry and fiction, I suspect).

To list those wide swaths is not to exclude other things; for example, I have three other books by bedside right now (Loeb volumes of Clement of Alexandria and The History of the (Later Roman) Empire by Herodion Volumes I and II).  Other books will undoubtedly make their way in as the year goes on, as sometimes the mood just "catches me" to read a thing.  

I will remain interested in how this (slightly) more focused approach leaves me feeling at the end of the year.