Reality TV
It's not very nice to drop off the face of the earth and not blog for an entire week with nary a mention of my well being. I apologize. As a family we are currently in the middle of the ongoing process of figuring out what life looks like now that we have a medical resident in the house. Some days it's peachy, but some days it's crazy. When it's crazy for a sustained period of time, the blogging falls off, but not for lack of things to blog about. Just for lack of energy and available hours.
The other night Stacy and I decided that it's a bad thing when life starts looking like a TV show. It was in the midst of what is becoming a routine conversation in our house where we compare how our days have gone and assess the various signs that the apocalypse is indeed upon us. As I do this youth ministry thing on what is roughly the North side of the 'hood, Stacy is working at a hospital about 30 blocks away on what could be seen as the Southern border of the same neighborhood. So we end up having a pretty good idea of what is going on in the streets, especially considering that Stacy is currently doing a rotation in the Trauma Center/ER. You see some pretty crazy stuff go down when you work the 7pm to 7am shift in that particular establishment.
Of the lessons we have learned over the past few weeks, few stand out more than the respect we have for police officers. Those cats are brave. To quote Stacy, "I've cut way to many uniformed pants off of people this past month". I'm not really sure what causes people to think it is appropriate to shoot at civilians and police officers, but it seems as though there are a lot of people to whom that is an acceptable problem-solving technique. Which explains why I see some of the things I see when I'm hanging out with kids in the neighborhood.
A couple of weeks ago I was out with some kids mowing lawns. We had just unloaded our truck when a squad car pulled up half a block behind us to run our tags. They were trying to be discrete, but since it's a fairly regular occurrence the kids knew exactly what was going on. We checked out, so they proceeded to the car in front of us.
Whatever they found when they ran those tags was not good. I know this because the officers got out of their car, and one of them felt the need to grab his assault riffle before they approached the house. I took that as a cue that we should find a different lot to mow, and we packed up our stuff and quietly left before things got dramatic. See ya later.
So anyway, I think we're figuring out the life rhythm now. It's a crazy rhythm, but there is a beat there nonetheless. I fully anticipate a more regular blog flow resuming this week.
Fair Dinkum
The other night Stacy and I decided that it's a bad thing when life starts looking like a TV show. It was in the midst of what is becoming a routine conversation in our house where we compare how our days have gone and assess the various signs that the apocalypse is indeed upon us. As I do this youth ministry thing on what is roughly the North side of the 'hood, Stacy is working at a hospital about 30 blocks away on what could be seen as the Southern border of the same neighborhood. So we end up having a pretty good idea of what is going on in the streets, especially considering that Stacy is currently doing a rotation in the Trauma Center/ER. You see some pretty crazy stuff go down when you work the 7pm to 7am shift in that particular establishment.
Of the lessons we have learned over the past few weeks, few stand out more than the respect we have for police officers. Those cats are brave. To quote Stacy, "I've cut way to many uniformed pants off of people this past month". I'm not really sure what causes people to think it is appropriate to shoot at civilians and police officers, but it seems as though there are a lot of people to whom that is an acceptable problem-solving technique. Which explains why I see some of the things I see when I'm hanging out with kids in the neighborhood.
A couple of weeks ago I was out with some kids mowing lawns. We had just unloaded our truck when a squad car pulled up half a block behind us to run our tags. They were trying to be discrete, but since it's a fairly regular occurrence the kids knew exactly what was going on. We checked out, so they proceeded to the car in front of us.
Whatever they found when they ran those tags was not good. I know this because the officers got out of their car, and one of them felt the need to grab his assault riffle before they approached the house. I took that as a cue that we should find a different lot to mow, and we packed up our stuff and quietly left before things got dramatic. See ya later.
So anyway, I think we're figuring out the life rhythm now. It's a crazy rhythm, but there is a beat there nonetheless. I fully anticipate a more regular blog flow resuming this week.
Fair Dinkum