The Power of Persistence

This tree was decimated during 9/11... but it lived! If you're going through hard times, remember -- you can not only emerge from the tunnel whole -- but stronger than when you went in.


Here's the Survivor Tree's story:

A Callery pear tree became known as the "Survivor Tree" after enduring the September 11, 2001 terror attacks at the World Trade Center. In October 2001, the tree was discovered at Ground Zero severely damaged, with snapped roots and burned and broken branches. The tree was removed from the rubble and placed in the care of the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation. After its recovery and rehabilitation, the tree was returned to the Memorial in 2010. New, smooth limbs extended from the gnarled stumps, creating a visible demarcation between the tree’s past and present. Today, the tree stands as a living reminder of resilience, survival and rebirth.

We Chose An Investment Plan -- And Why We Did (Part II)

Hopefully, you've read PART I: THE BACKSTORY before you stopped by here. It will explain what the heck this five-part series is all about.

PART II:  LIFE -- 

     The Brick and I began married life Dec, 26, 1981 as poor college stuents in Ann Arbor. But we both had jobs, and reasonable transportation -- and enough funds that, if we were careful, paid the bills and left us enough to go out for pancakes on Saturday morning.
      We loved each other very much. (Still do.)

     If there was anything our folks had taught us, it was how to be resourceful, and stretch our money.

Here we are -- The Mama made my dress, and we got the Brick's suit at a men's discounted clothing store..
.for a stunning (to us, at least) $100.
 He paid nearly triple that for the suit he wore this year to his daughter's wedding!

     I bought groceries very carefully. We lived principally on chicken noodle soup and macaroni & cheese, ramen noodles (but only the best -- Sapporo Ichiban), peanut butter and whatever meat or fish I could find on sale: smelt, octopus, hamburger and chicken. We brought vegetables and fruit back from the folks' farm, and grew our own in a community garden plot. Our neighbors were nearly all international students; our best friends were a couple from Taiwan. (She taught me authentic stirfry; I taught her how to make cream puffs. Marcella, I still miss you.)

     When the Brick finished his B.S. in engineering, we spent the summer on a Yamaha Virago motorcycle. (We'd traded in the Kawasaki.) We had $850, camping gear and plans to follow Lewis & Clark's expedition trail. It was a wonderful time, sore bottom and all -- and a fitting intro to the West that we live in now.
     We arrived in Boulder in August 1984, covered in mud (it had been raining for days) and pretty much broke. A friend in Ann Arbor volunteered her sister's place to stay. By the time we headed back to Michigan to pick up our stuff, by God's grace, the Brick was enrolled in grad school at the University of Colorado; we had an on-campus apartment ($125/month...insanely cheap in Boulder!); and I had two job offers. (I took the one at the Daily Camera, Boulder's newspaper. Reasonable pay -- but even better, BENEFITS.)

    The Brick got a job, working for Boulder County as an engineer. (Good pay, no benefits.) He finished his M.S. in Engineering. We had Daughter #1; I left my job at the Camera, but freelanced for them. We moved up into the mountains. (Ironically, only a few blocks from where Daughter #2 and Son #1 live today.) After some difficult months -- this was during a huge financial recession in Colorado -- the Brick passed his P.E., and got a really good position as a mechanical engineer. We moved down into Denver; Daughter #2 was born soon after we moved to Castle Rock.

Life was good. We bought our first house, after visiting dozens of possibilities. (We dickered a lot, as well. Even though money was much more available, we'd lived on so little for so long that we couldn't help ourselves. I still check the markdown bins today.) I had a garden, made bread and jam (from our own cherry and wild plum bushes) -- and worked part-time as an editor for a quilting magazine. The girlies walked to school, only a few blocks away; our friend Chris, a former schoolteacher, took care of them until I could get home.

Life was very good.

Only it wasn't.

     The Brick got laid off -- and laid off again. If you've ever worked in the Denver area, you'll understand this. Many of the large engineering firms are military contractors...and their contracts, if you're lucky, go for five years. At the end of that period, they lay everyone off, and the process starts all over again.
     By this time, the Brick was working for Lockheed-Martin: 60-80 hours a week minimum, and encouraged to work more. His 'great' salary never changed, no matter how many hours he put in. It was so much stress that he ended up with a nervous breakdown, and stayed home for a month. (Meanwhile, I was trying to do my work at the magazine and desperately trying to remain upbeat, as I watched our savings -- thank God, we HAD savings, -- disappear.)

     When he began to recover and went back to work, he made up that lost month's time in roughly three weeks. That's how hard Lockheed-Martin worked its people. In fact, another engineer had a breakdown and was on their way to the hospital within just a day of the Brick's return.

We both knew he could not take much more of this life. So he got a job as campus engineer for his old alma mater, CU-Boulder. The hours were almost normal, and the atmosphere not so pressured.

     And the Brick had at least 2-3 hours commute to and from Castle Rock. Every single day.

We were paying extra on the mortgage every month -- and had money deducted from our paychecks automatically every month.  Hey, it disappeared before the bank deposit...so we didn't have it, right? (If you're working regularly -- and not doing this -- please consider starting a 401k and funding it regularly -- even if you can contribute only a little. This is even more important if your employer is willing to match part of the amount.)

Then I got laid off. Then hired again, but for fewer hours and lower pay. (No matching, either.) My business, Brickworks, was still in the enfant terrible stage. But at least it brought in a little income.

We looked at houses in the Boulder area, thinking we'd move. Couldn't find anything we liked, at a price we could afford. (Boulder is expensive. Even today, a house that would be $100,00 or so elsewhere can easily sell for more than a million.)

We found another house -- still in Castle Rock, but with more space and a 50-mile or so view that looked out at the mountains. It had wacky owners -- we called them Ma & Pa Kettle, after we found evidence they'd raised rabbits in the finished basement -- and some mechanical problems, including the wiring being put in backward. The real estate agents finally agreed to forego part of their commission, just so they could get the property off their hands. (Yes, we got it for a bargain.) The day we moved in, Ma & Pa Kettle's secondhand schoolbus was still in the driveway, full of kids peeking out -- and they were frantically vacuuming inside 'our' house. I found pockets of forgotten towels, clothes, etc. for months afterwards, but couldn't send them on -- Ma and Pa wouldn't give us a forwarding address. (Turns out they owed money to practically everyone.)

     Our first house didn't sell right away. To pay both mortgages, I took another newspaper job, doing marketing and layout. The girlies moved to a new school, which they both hated.

The Brick's job at CU became more and more stressful. Finally, he felt close to another breakdown. I didn't want to go through that again. Neither did he.

So he quit.

We had enough in savings for three months -- the 401k's, as always, remained untouched.  (Thank God, and our frugal parents' examples!)  When the money was gone, the Brick took the least mentally-stressful job he could find: as a school bus driver. (Ironic, huh.)

He was rested, and getting better. And our bills were still being paid, by God's grace. Our first house had finally sold, and my teaching/writing income was starting to pick up.

Could we keep going, even though our income was now less than 25% of the Brick's engineering pay?


(NEXT:  PART III:  COPING)

Losing Time

It also happens in yarn shops. Thrift shops, too.

      Must be the influence of the Klingons. Or the Borg. Let's get the Enterprise crew working on this -- stat!

We Chose An Investment Plan -- And Why We Did (Part I)

 This begins a five-part series on employment, layoffs, retirement...and choosing an investment firm to handle our finances. Hopefully, our experiences will help you decide what you want to do with your own money. P.S. I realize the title is bland -- but couldn't think of anything different. Feel free to make suggestions.

PART I:  THE BACKSTORY

   If you've been reading my blog for any period of time, you know that, for many reasons, we've had to be careful with our money for decades.

We knew what this was like as kids -- we both grew up in very modest circumstances.

The Brick's dad served in the Navy until retirement -- then went to work for a friend who owned a pest removal company. Unfortunately, Good Friend took advantage of Clyde's time and effort...and permanently affected his health.
     Dad ended up doing some civilian work for the government, then had several heart attacks and was forced to retire again. His wife worked for the FHA (Farmers Home Administration) for at least a decade, to help keep bills paid. Clyde died in his early 50s; it wasn't until Mom married George, the father-in-law that I knew, that she finally became what you would call 'comfortable.' The Brick and his brothers and families became sons to George, who had no children of his own. And when he died, he left everything to Mom. Who had become so frugal, she in turn left enough to us to be able to pay off our house and begin a nest egg.

* * * * * * * * * * *

My parents weren't far behind. Pa worked for a tractor sales and repair business my uncle founded. When he retired, the business went to his sons...and my dad, who had put in decades of faithful work as the service manager. One of the sons helped himself to business funds, and didn't bother to pay items like taxes and workers compensation. Finally the business was closed, and its assets put up for auction. My folks lost everything they had put into it...something that one son regretted greatly, and has tried to make up to his uncle and aunt ever since. (Son #2  could have cared less. Guess which one did which?)
     The folks, fortunately, had paid off the farm when I was in high school. (It originally cost $10,000 -- a fortune to someone making $100 a week back then.) Dad worked the farm all those years, saving what he could. He ended up buying equipment at the auction for pennies on the dollar -- abetted by farmers who still wanted him to repair their equipment. Then he went into business for himself. In his late fifties.

     That's what a sterling reputation for honesty and integrity will do for you -- even if you're not financially rich.

     What my dad DID insist on, however, was saving a little each year, no matter what -- and carrying adequate insurance. When he died, more than ten years ago, the Mama was left reasonably well off. She rents out the farmland, and it -- plus their savings -- are enough for her to pay her bills, give presents to her family, and still have enough for going out to eat and a trip now and then.

What both sets of parents taught us was simple, but invaluable:

*It's not how much you make -- it's how much you spend.

*Always set some aside for emergencies. Even if things are fine now, something will come up.

*Save some money every year -- even if it means you have to go without temporarily. Even a little is better than nothing.

*Don't spend the money you saved -- ever. (Both our mothers were and are far too good at this. I wish the Brick's mom had splurged more. Shoot, I wish the Mama would treat herself more, as well!)

Finally:

*Your reputation is priceless.
                  Never, ever sell yourself out -- or short.

This was hugely important to both sets of parents. The Brick's dad stood up for neighbors who were being taken advantage of -- and not fighting back. And he paid for it...because those neighbors were black. (They were also good friends, something you didn't see much in 1970s North Carolina. But that was the way Clyde operated.)

The Mama and my dad refused to sell off their land in bits and pieces...because it was part of the family legacy. (My great-great-grandparents were homesteaders there, and Grandpa and Grandma Cumings lived there for decades.) They endured lower pay and crop failures, yet insisted that bills be paid first. The only vacations we went on were to visit family -- and we camped along the way, with few exceptions. Our idea of a lavish night out was the Thursday night root beer special at the A&W drive-in. (Dad finally took the Alaskan cruise he and Mom had always wanted, but was too sick with cancer to really enjoy it. He died not long afterwards.)

When the Brick and I got together, in 1981, we were both college students. I was living in the attic of a college professor's house, cleaning, looking after their daughter and walking the dog, in return for room and one meal a day. (Plus lunch, if I walked the dog again.) I graded papers for a little additional money, and my parents were covering my tuition. (I'd saved faithfully through high school for college, but that money went for my B.A. This was grad school.)

The Brick was wealthy, in comparison. He'd just come out of 6 years in the Navy, but his savings had gone for a new car (purchased on discount, because his brother was an engineer for Ford). However, he also got $400 monthly from the GI Bill. (I remember being stunned at how much that figure represented!) During the months we dated, he wined and dined me lavishly, with Greek salads, subs and Italian food -- delivered!! (I'd never had that before.) We went out to eat. We went to movies! He must have been a millionaire.  (grin)  I soon found out.

Yep, that's us. We didn't have a clue what we were getting ourselves into. 
But at least we were doing it together.

When we married, the day after Christmas in 1981, 9 months after we first met, my M.A. degree was barely finished. (I turned in my Master's paper three days before. 'What are you going to do during break?' my professor asked. When I said I was getting married, he laughed -- he and his wife had done the same thing.) Our bills were paid, and we'd rented a cabin up north for our honeymoon. We only had enough extra cash for one day's worth of skiing, and maybe a meal out.
     We'd packed groceries for the rest of the time -- and a tv to watch Michigan in the Rose Bowl. Which turned out to be a blessing -- a huge blizzard halved our guest list on our wedding day. We made it to the cabin, but ended up getting snowed in for several days. (Oh, the burden of having to stay snug inside with your wonderful new husband!)

We came home to the Brick starting up school again (he was barely a junior). We moved into an apartment so small, you could literally walk its length in a dozen steps. A surprise birthday party, with a dozen guests invited, meant that my brother-in-law spent the evening lying underneath the table -- to try and ease up the jam of people.
    We had our classy Ford Mustang -- and a Kawasaki motorcycle. (My ancient Duster had gone to Little Brother, to help him at college.)

     I had a full-time job, managing a church office.  (For not much.)

    The Brick had a part-time job as student engineer for the Michigan Union.
            (For more than I was making.)

    And there was that blessed $400 every month from the GI Bill.

But that was it. 





(MORE IN PART II: LIFE)

Bigfoot, Show Yourself!

Boy, he/she's been quiet lately, although he did take time for a stroll with Kevin and Ruth.

Kevin and Ruth's RV travel blog is great fun -- click on the link above. (Photo used with permission)

Even the BFRO (Bigfoot Field Researchers Organizaqtion) reports have been rather meager this summer. This one is the most interesting, with multiple experiences. And it's in a prime part of the country for Sasquatch sightings. But still...

One of my old college friends lives in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. She says that he's been quite active this summer -- in fact, one night he was yelling so loud that Chris could hear him over both the tv and the air conditioner. 'So why didn't you tape him?' I asked. She says that he's not cooperating whenever she has equipment set up. 
     The stinker. 
\



I haven't heard a thing about Colorado sightings this summer. Maybe BF has been scared away by the forest fires and all the smoke we've been experiencing. Maybe he/she is waiting for hunting season to start, to make an appearance. 

Even the current issue of Smithsonian Magazine is picking on Our Hairy Friends, claiming they're 'mythical creatures,' and deriding witnesses as well-meaning, naive idiots. ("Myth," by the way, in this kind of lexicon, means 'untrue.' No matter what.)

Tell that to whatever made this footprint up in the boonies, that Son #1 discovered.

I'm sure you're out there, Mr. B. Won't you show youself?

Monday Stuff On the Way to Other Stuff: Getting Ready for North Platte

On Thursday, I'll be speaking at the Heartland Quilters meeting in North Platte, NE. The subject: "Good, Better, Best:" an in-depth look at what makes good quilts great ones. Lots of examples, tips and advice for your work. Stop by and say hi!

Otherwise, more of same, as far as schedule and stuff to do.
     The Brick is working on the trailer, catching up on needed sleep and looking for some things we need for the trailer (including a good vacuum). 
     I've been picking wild plums (a gallon or two, so far!), working on appraisal reports and tidying up. Thrilling, huh... 
     We did see an amazing 2014 oceangoing war movie: Admiral: Roaring Currents. It's about a famous 1597 battle (yes, 14th century!) between the Koreans (with a dozen ships) and the Japanese (with more than 200 ships). I don't want to ruin it for you -- be sure to track it down. The movie has been one of the most-viewed overseas...but I haven't found many people who know about it here. 

     Think Master and Commander, mixed with Kenneth Branagh's Henry V and Ben Hur (the galley/ocean battle part). A terrific movie.

Dark Ireland...a moody photo look at Richard Fitzgerald's childhood in the old country.

Going on a cruise -- even when you think you can't afford it.

Take a look at this opaline beauty, courtesy of Geology Wonders:

The ketchup taste test. Len Penzo does regular tests of various items, and they're always illuminating.

A blind wine tasting test -- did the most expensive win 'best-tasing,' as well? The results are surprising.

A two-wallhanging pattern by Amy Bradley Designs, combining the duo emotions of a typical Monday. Ms. Moody Two-Shoes might be just what you need to express yourself:

Ten species that have died out. Or in the case of a few, like the Tasmanian tiger, have they? (From Listverse) While you're there, check out:

Ten controversial artifacts that -- if they're authentic -- could change history.

A would-be bride pissed off that her attendees wouldn't contribute $1500 each to attend 'the wedding of a lifetime.' (The couple broke up four days before the wedding, and it's All Her Family/Friends Fault.) She wouldn't like us much.
   
Jeff Lowe died. This famous climber had more than 1,000 ascents under his belt...yet died of a mystery ailment similar to Lou Gehrig's disease. He will be missed. Speaking of climbers:

A Soviet climber who disappeared 31 YEARS AGO on Mount Elbrus has been found, encased in ice. She is described as looking like a "wax doll."

A pocket watch found on its owners body after he drowned... from the sinking of the HMS Titanic. It sold recently: for $57,500.  P.S. It doesn't work anymore., and condition is poor. But provenance is excellent.

The secret ingredient chefs use to make their food 'pop.' (Hint: it varies.)

John McCain: Life and death of a maverick. A man I admired very much, even when I disagreed with him.

Did Senator Elizabeth Warren use her Native American ancestry (Cherokee and Delaware) to get ahead, via minority preference programs? The evidence strongly suggests NO. (Like Senator McCain, I admire this woman very much -- in spite of disagreeing with ideologies. President Trump owes her an apology -- and while he's at it, he should knock off the 'Pocahantas' moniker, as well.)

A 'Thriller' flashmob in Sao Paulo, honoring Michael Jackson's 60th birthday.

Cool things to make with wonton wrappers.  (From Cheap Recipe Blog)

One of the stranger websites you'll ever visit -- all dedicated to one man and his suicide. Written by himself, and finished the day he died -- his 60th birthday. Found through Listverse and their strange entry:

Ten people who documented their own deaths.

Try a 'financial cheat month.' There's some logic in this... (From Financial Samurai)

Take some time to relax on Monday -- and hang onto summer while you can. If you're in the North Platte area, I'd love to see you!

What Appears to Be... Is Not Always All There Is