End-of-Decade Musings

Today is the last day of 2009 and of the decade. (You can count the decade any way you like; in my blog, it ends today.) Ten years ago tonight, I was at the hospital where we worked, making certain that the Y2K hullabaloo was just that and nothing more. About 10 minutes after midnight, when I was satisfied that nothing we had there was going to blow up or disappear, I went out back and lit some fireworks in the street. The city had allowed fireworks to be sold and shot that night for the special occasion of the beginning of a new century. Naturally, I couldn't pass up that opportunity.
Tonight, if God wills, we will spend a relatively quiet evening at my brother's place with friends and relatives, eating, talking, and playing mindless games. There won't be much late-sleeping tomorrow as we probably won't stay up that late. Old people don't stay up late much, you know. Other than that, the decade of the 20-teens will be ushered in whether we like it or not and whether we're ready for it or not.
When that happens, I will have been a part of eight decades, but who's counting? Born in 1949, I like to say that because it makes me even older than I am. Hopefully, others will also think of me as wiser than I am, since age and wisdom traditionally go together.
My, my, a lot has happened these last 10 years. I hope, though, that through it all, what has really taken place is that I have grown more accepting of myself and others, of my lot in life, and of my inability to create true happiness and peace for myself. I hope I have honed my reliance on the One who made it all in such a way that would enable a relationship with Him like I've never had before. And regardless where the 20-teen decade takes us, I would hope that I can say at the end of it, “I have loved and have been loved.”

Emus and Cardboard

A couple of things happened today that I never even dreamed would happen. Have you ever said to yourself, “I never would have thought in a hundred years that…” I said that twice today.
The first was a commercial on TV over the lunch hour. We had the kitchen set on while we were dining on leftover chicken soup, and a commercial came on for emu oil. It’s been on before, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that this one minute spot was constructed to convince the viewer that he or she needed emu oil for good health and wellness. It’s like, “Oh, I’ve never thought of that before! I know now that I really, really need emu oil! Thank you for letting me know that!”
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that someone would try to sell me emu oil.
The second happened at work. Someone brought some pastries and coffee from Starbucks. The therapy girls asked me if I wanted any. I took them up on the coffee…I don’t get Starbucks very often, as I’ve never been in a store ( and don’t intend to start any time soon). They pointed me to the coffee…in a cardboard container with a pour spout.
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that I would be pouring coffee out of a cardboard container.
So, there you have it, folks. I am continually amazed at how ignorant and hopelessly…um…OLD I am when compared with those in the avant garde ranks who slather emu oil over their bodies and slurp (what they say is) the world’s best (and I presume has to be) most expensive coffee.
Excuse me while I trek out to get some coffee in cardboard.

Thought-Provoking

I don't know what to make of the story on "60 Minutes" this evening. A former CIA operative who worked in Afghanistan tells how he and his small bands of warriors defeated the Taliban shortly after 2001 in that region. He and an Afghan government official also talk about what is needed now in that region.
I don't have an opinion on the morality or "rightness" of what these men did. I know enough to know that war is, to say the least, a messy proposition. I also know that due to the fallen nature of the creation, these kinds of things just are a part of life and living.
However, if you wish to see a different perspective on the war in that area, what we are doing there and why (whether you agree or not that we should be there or are doing the right thing there), please watch the video. It's at http://www.cbs.com/primetime/60_minutes/video/index.php?pid=9Ni0XjwOBY60NbRGZWrcQB1b7WDV_gIT
You'll have to wade through some commercials, but the piece is well worth seeing, and provokes much thought.

The Adventure Continues

As I sit here listening to Handel’s “Messiah” on public radio, I am struck by how many of the pieces in that work are familiar to me. More than that I am struck by how many of those I have sung in a choir or some kind at some time in the past.
I am not musically trained, although I have been given a gift for reading music, and have at least a form of absolute pitch. I’ve always been active in choirs in high school and in communities, and enjoy singing with others.
Some of the great memories for me are those where I performed, along with others, such as the “Hallelujah Chorus”, “And the Glory”, and others from The Messiah. I also have fond memories of singing “O Holy Night” and other Christmas music along with non-holiday music such as “The Lord’s Prayer”, “Walk in Jerusalem”, and others. One year, our high school choir performed Handel’s “The Heavens are Telling”…a difficult piece at best for a high school choir. If I remember right, Ardyth Trenary (we called her “Trigger” because she liked horses) was the vocal teacher that year. She stayed only one year, but we did stuff that year (like a Broadway production) we’d never done before (or since).
When we were in southern Kansas, I helped organize a community choir that performed for several years during the Christmas holiday. That was probably one of the more enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had, and I relish those memories.
I’d like to connect with a choir just once more in my lifetime…nothing fancy, no opera singers, no hot dog performers; just ordinary folks who have some musical ability who want to get together with a conductor and see what they can produce.
The family will be here in another hour or so and we’ll spend the rest of the day together in warmth and comfort. As my lovely wife wrote on the bottom of the Christmas card she gave me this morning, “And the adventure continues!”

O Holy Night

I was working in the shop at work today. I don't recall what specifically I was doing...fixing something, I think. I have a radio in there, and had it on an FM station that was playing Christmas music. They went through several numbers, then started "O Holy Night". I stopped in my tracks, went to my desk, sat down, and listened to the entire piece.
Now, I know that this song is a "warhorse" of the Christmas music genre. I also know it's been done by many people, recorded times too numerous to count on an abacus, and is so-oooo very familiar. I've heard it too, many many times. But this time there was something that went "click" in my head, and I just stopped everything, sat down, and concentrated on the words and their meaning. I must also admit that a tear or two formed in the corners of my eyes as I pondered the depth of the meaning of those words.
Have you ever really heard the words of that song? I mean to hear with understanding...to get the message...to know what the lyricist was trying to say? In case you haven't, I reprint them below.

O Holy Night
by John Sullivan Dwight (1855)

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of Our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world In sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts By His cradle we stand.
So led by light of A star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men From Orient land.
The King of Kings Lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials Born to be our friend.
He knows our need, To our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us To love one another;
His law is love And His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother;
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.

Try This

Go to http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap960617.html and click on the picture. It should enlarge. I think if you click on it again, it will enlarge once more. See if you can find places on that picture that you know. If you’re geographically challenged, it might be a problem, but you can try.
For the folks in Kansas, try to find Wichita first. It’s down and to the left of one of the larger dots on the map just a shade to the right of the middle (Kansas City). You can follow I-70 west out of KC where you’ll find Lawrence, Topeka, and so on. To the southwest of Kansas City is a moderately large dot which would be Wichita. About half way between those two dots is a dot that is Emporia.
Once you find Wichita, it’s not hard to see Kingman, Harper, Anthony, Pratt, Hutchinson, Newton, Hesston, McPherson, and other communities. For those in Western Kansas, start at I-70 (you can see where it bends to the northwest at Oakley) and find communities from that point.
Michigan folks will have a harder time of it since the Detroit metro area is so bright. This map works a lot better in rural areas, of course. And if you’re from Florida, Arizona, or Montana, you’re on your own as I’m not that familiar with the local geography.
By the way, the website that has this (APOD) is a part of NASA and has a different picture that is space-related every day. It’s a fascinating place and this site is a great way to take in just a small part of what’s out there.

The Solstice

The winter solstice is fast approaching. Specifically, it shows up on December 21 this year just a few minutes before noon. That is when the sun is as far south in the sky as it will go. The days are also as short (9 hours, 34 minutes in Wichita, according the almanac) as they will get. From that point on, the sun will begin a northerly journey in the sky and the days will begin to get longer. Slowly at first, then more quickly, the sun begins to warm the northern hemisphere yet again in an almost endless cycle of climate, temperature change, and seasons.
I know there is a lot of winter ahead, but I always like to mark the winter solstice as it means that there is the hope of spring, warmer weather, and pleasant temperatures. I am also reminded of the provision of God in all of this. He sees to it that the times and seasons remain and keep in their places. He assures that there will indeed be an awakening this coming spring as the sun warms the earth and life springs forth yet again.
Year after year, regardless of any political upheaval, war, or human-made event, the sun still rises in the East and the plants and creatures continue to inhabit the earth, fulfilling the will of God. I have to wonder how many more springs I will see, and how many more springs will be seen by the creation itself, but those are questions that are not for me to answer. How ever many more springs that come my way, I will marvel at what I see in the creation, even out my back door.
There is life ahead and living to be done. There are adventures to share and experience. And there is the hope of rest from labors and an eternity with the King.

Christmas

I penned this first as a bulletin article five years ago.

“Tis the season to be jolly! Fa la la la la la la la la”. I suppose these words are very familiar to you as from the Christmas tune, Deck the Halls. But if your take on the season is the same as that of Lucy Van Pelt in “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, you’ll relate very well to her as she says, “I know how you feel about all this Christmas business, getting depressed and all that. It happens to me every year. I never get what I really want. I always get a lot of stupid toys or a bicycle or clothes or something like that.”

The unfortunate thing is that many in our society feel the same way. Instead of a time for joy, it’s a time for depression. Instead of a time of contentment, it’s a time of greed. Instead of a time fulfillment, it’s a time of unfulfilled (and unfulfillable) expectations.

We go through the motions, succumb to the commercial temptations, break our necks to have the perfect holiday celebration, and put on the best show we know how, only to find that something is terribly wrong.

We have not found what we’re looking for. We’re not even close. And instead of sitting back and taking stock, we pedal even faster, so to speak, in the futile hope that somehow things will be different this time.

In the same TV program, Charlie Brown, exasperated, tired, and harried because of the antics of the others at a Christmas play practice, shouts out to anyone who will listen, “Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me what Christmas is all about?”

And Linus Van Pelt, Lucy’s little brother, takes center stage and says, “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you. Lights, please. (A spotlight shines on Linus.) "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you this day is born in the City of Bethlehem, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men'. That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

It is interesting to note that Linus, forever dependent on his security blanket, lets go of it when he quotes “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.” You know, maybe it’s time for a little less “Deck the Halls” and a little more quiet reflection on just what this time of year means to us.

Ignorance & Want

I just saw the Dickens classic A Christmas Carol for perhaps the 89th time. This particular adaptation was the one done by George C. Scott. Each time I watch this, it seems that I see something new or have a little different take on what is happening. Perhaps part of that comes from hardly ever watching the full movie in its entirety. For whatever the reason I seem to always catch pieces and parts of this story. I can perhaps count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen the whole thing at one sitting.
Nevertheless, I was struck this time by the appearance of the children under the skirt of the Ghost of Christmas Present. They are named Ignorance and Want, according to the Ghost. And depending on the version one sees, either one or both have the word “doom” written on their foreheads. This is perhaps the most riveting of all the scenes in the story.
Scrooge and the ghost have a conversation regarding these children. The words below are purported to be the original writing of Dickens regarding the children. The picture is said to be a print of the original in the book.
I leave you to discover the truth of this scene and apply it to yourself as you can.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children's Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey.

"Are spirits' lives so short?" asked Scrooge.

"My life upon this globe, is very brief," replied the Ghost. "It ends to-night."

"To-night!" cried Scrooge.

"To-night at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near."

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.

"Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?"

"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look here."

From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.

"Oh, Man, look here! Look, look, down here!" exclaimed the Ghost.

They were a boy and a girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

"Spirit, are they yours?" Scrooge could say no more.

"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!" cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. "Slander those who tell it ye. Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide the end."

"Have they no refuge or resource?" cried Scrooge.

"Are there no prisons?" said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. "Are there no workhouses?"

The bell struck twelve

An Unpopular Viewpoint

I was going through some older writing and found the article below. I wrote it in 2005 during the time when we lived in Topeka. My background is in Human Resources, although I don't work in that capacity at this time. Topeka was going through a ballot process to determine whether or not to make homosexuality a protected class in Topeka, at least in terms of hiring decisions.
My viewpoint is not a popular one among Christians. I have received some of the harshest criticism ever from Christians because of the opinions I express below. I expect to receive more by reprinting this article. So why reprint it?
Because I believe the greater truth (beyond the homosexual issue raised here) remains very pertinent in defining who Christians are and how Christians are perceived by others. We are to be a "peculiar people". That doesn't necessarily mean that we are to do our best to alienate others; on the contrary, we are to strive to have "good report" from those outside of the faith.
The homosexual issue is but one of a host of issues that Christians seem to have mis-handled over the years, ignoring clear teaching from the Holy Writ. God help us bring honor and glory to Him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As the whole world by now knows, Topeka voted this week on whether or not to rescind the action of the Topeka City Council when they approved placing homosexuals into a protected class regarding hiring. The protected class status may also apply to housing and other areas…I don’t know for sure. The vote was rather close, but the voters affirmed the action of the Council. We now have one more protected class in the City of Topeka.
Conservative Christians, by and large, came out on the side of not offering legal protection to homosexuals. The more politically moderate or liberal Christians (yes, those people really exist) may have voted either way. The whole community was polarized, however, by the vote. National news media were here and much to-do was made of the whole situation.
You know, the really sad part of all of this is that there needs to be protected class status for homosexuals (or any other persons) at all. What have we done as a society to cause honest, God-fearing people in positions of authority to conclude that this society needs to put legal protections in place benefiting homosexuals, women, people of color, the aged, or whoever else has been afforded that status?
The short answer: we have discriminated as a society against women, people of color, the aged, the homosexual, and others in our hiring processes and in other areas. And we have done it so much that honest, thinking people are now saying, “Enough.” Even those who wear the name Christian are not innocent, and in fact may be some of the more blatant offenders over the years.
Since I am a Human Resources professional, I’ll use hiring as an illustration. Why, in heaven’s name, would I as an H/R professional pass over a qualified individual that I am certain will do a competent, decent job for me in favor of someone less qualified and less experienced, just because the more qualified person is a woman, or Hispanic, or a homosexual?
Isn’t it inherently in my best interests and in the best interests of the company for which I am hiring that I place the most qualified candidate in the position? Why would I even think of doing any differently? And if I am a Christian, I am even more duty-bound to “do good to all men” and do the best job for my employer that I possibly can. To do anything else is shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
As a Christian Human Resources professional, why would I discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation if I don’t also discriminate on the basis of whether or not the person is cohabiting, an adulterer (either male or female), had a child out of wedlock, had sex under the age of 16 (that’s rape in Kansas regardless of consent), or had an abortion? Why don’t I discriminate based on whether or not that person has broken one of the Ten Commandments, or has failed to love the Lord, or love his neighbor? Why do I single out the homosexual for special discrimination?
Could it be that I don’t really think that adultery or cohabitation is as heinous a sin as homosexuality? Could it be that I as a Christian actually think that some sins are not soul-threatening and others are? Could it be that I am “too close” to the “heterosexual” sins of cohabitation, premarital sex, or adultery to be objective? Could it be that my son, daughter, niece, grandchild, or even I myself am guilty of one or more of those sins?
Do you see what I’m trying to say here? I don’t condone homosexuality in any way, shape, or form. I believe that an unrepentant homosexual is in grave danger of losing his or her soul for all eternity and that I have an obligation as a Christian to lovingly teach and encourage repentance and right living. But to single out the homosexual for special discrimination, while glossing over or ignoring other sinful activities that also will cause grave danger to the soul, is (and I’ll repeat) shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
We, by and large, have as a society made our collective bed. And we as Christians have been some of the worst “makers” of that bed. And now we, as a society, and as Christians, have to lie in it.

More From the Past

Last blog I talked some about memories that were triggered by things that I have around the house. Several of those things have to do with tools and the like, as Dad was a farmer and a heating and plumbing man. He had a lot of those kinds of things and I either bought or inherited several of them.
One thing I didn’t mention is something I don’t have in Wichita, but would like to bring here some day. It’s a 1951 (although the sales sheet says it’s a1952) Minneapolis Moline model U tractor. Right now it’s at my cousin’s place in the country about 40 miles from here. One of these days, I’d like to have a wrecker truck bring it up here and I’d try to do some restoration on it.
The mechanics are relatively simple and parts are fairly easy to obtain. I don’t think it would take a lot of restoration other than reversing the effects of sitting outside for the past 10 years or so. Engine work would be first, and the transmission would possibly have to be drained and refilled with 90 weight oil. There would be axle seals that are leaking, brakes that need to be rebuilt, and other such, but overall it would be, I think, a good thing to do.
I couldn’t very well take it out on Kellogg or Pawnee, but it would be good to hear it run again. It has a rather unique sound and I could even now probably recognize it immediately, even though I haven’t heard it in ten years. Those kinds of memories just don’t go away.
What would I do with it? I don’t have a clue. What would my kids or my family do with it when I am gone? I don’t have a clue on that one, either. It wouldn’t matter much to me. I’m sure that one of these days, either sooner or later, it will meet the fate of many such tractors and end up in a salvage yard or in some museum. It’s work days are over.
I can’t begin to put on paper the memories this blog has dredged up. As someone who spent time on not only that tractor, but also on a similar make, but larger model, those memories loom large. I have to wonder, though, as I recall several things right now, how we ever made it as well as we did back then. We really did do things on baling wire and prayer (so to speak) and also did things that nowadays would be considered grossly unsafe. Yet here I am, alive and in one piece. Amazing.
One of these days, I may tell of one specific memory that I have of this tractor, a 1961 Ford pickup, an 18 foot low-boy. homemade two wheel trailer, and a springtooth. Speaking of Ford pickups, I remember we had a 1951 red Ford pickup that had a (then) optional heater over in the passenger compartment. On a mildly cool day, the heater barely would keep the cab semi-warm. On cold days, it kept the icicles from forming on your nose, but that was about it.
The heater had doors on it that you would close to make the air go up to the defroster, but which never worked very well in really cold weather. Of course the wipers, being vacuum operated, didn’t work well either. It was a real adventure to see anything outside in winter weather…more than once was the window down and Dad would look out it to see where we were and where we were going. Aahh, those were the good old days!!

Reminders

In and around our home, I have several items that remind me of times past and gone. I’m not sure why things like this continue to hold importance in our lives, but they do. Somehow they remind us of our heritage, our history, and our roots.
On the top of the partial wall that separates the kitchen from the living area, I have placed our American Flyer electric train set, or at least part of it. I say “our” because it belongs to all of us kids in a very real sense. Back in the mid 50’s, Mom and Dad gave it to us kids as a Christmas gift. About 25 years ago, I added much more track, switches, and cars to the set. It still runs, and now reminds us of Christmases past.
The top of the refrigerator has an old Zenith radio sitting on it. It’s an AM/FM receiver with the Armstrong system of FM demodulation. It’s tubes, of course, except for the rectifier and dates from the late (I think) 1940’s. It sat on the refrigerator at home when I was a child, and also spent time on the piano in the living room. It was on that radio that I heard the “Big Jon and Sparkie” radio show. See http://www.otrcat.com/bigjonandsparkie-p-1093.html for more on that old time show.
I took that radio to electronics school back in the late 1960’s and replaced some parts, including the power supply capacitors and some tubes. It works fine after some work a few months ago.
Out back, on a tree at the edge of the park that is behind our home, I put a wren house that I think I built many years ago. It had been on a post behind our house where we raised our family. A day or two before we closed on the sale of that property a year or so ago, I went down there and retrieved that wren house, which had wrens virtually every year that we were there. I painted it and tightened it up a little, and it now is in our back yard.
On the side of one of our kitchen cabinets I have hung a match holder. It holds the wooden matches that come in a box. It used to hang in that same house where we raised our family right beside the back door on the wall. It hails from at least the 1950’s, I think, and I recall it as a child, hanging right there by the back door. I even have the strike anywhere matches in it…something that is getting increasingly hard to find.
Out in the garage, I have more things of Dad’s than I can mention. Toolboxes, wrenches, and even a workbench came from the home place and are in my memories. Probably one of the larger things I have is a storage thing made out of wood, separated into probably 40 or 50 compartments. It’s heavier than the dickens, and has been lugged around more than I want to think about.
But the thing that sets it apart is that I remember this particular item holding plumbing fittings in my uncle’s hardware store. Dad worked for him in plumbing and heating, and I spent a lot of time there, even getting plumbing fittings out of this thing in preparation to going on a plumbing job with Dad. It’s other claim to fame is that Dad wrote his initials on it, and they are still visible.
I wonder sometimes why I have carried that thing all over Kansas. Probably for the same reason I’ve carried an anvil all over Kansas…one that belonged to my grandfather…one I remember being in his barn years ago. And probably for the same reason I’ve carried the workbench that Dad had built for me, and the tools and tool boxes and the gas funnel, gas cans, a wooden six foot ladder, and other things. They are a part of who I am and where I was. They have genuine links to things that are nothing more than neurons in my head that have been modified in a certain way to enable those things we call memories. They put meat and bones on those memories and make them real. They ground me and remind me of who I am.

Longer Days

A couple of days ago, I was driving around in town with my window down and my arm hanging on the window frame. I know I probably looked like a Bubba doing that, but it was so great. I knew that the next day would usher in some cold air, and I probably wouldn’t be doing that again for awhile.
True enough, the cold has come. We aren’t in the frigid zone yet, but we are plenty cool for this time of the year. I’m also hearing rumors of measurable snow (these days, that can be as little as ¼ of an inch) coming next week some time.
For those of us who like the warmer weather, there is a bright spot to all of this. In less than three weeks, the days will be as short as they’re going to be for the year, and will start to grow longer. Along with that will eventually come warmer temperatures, although the temps seem to lag the days by a couple of months or so.
Here’s hoping for those longer days.