I think Elijah may have come to my Easter dinner.
A Grand New Baby
Do inanimate objects have spirit or life? I think at first blush the question makes me sound crazy. Doesn’t the term inanimate – no life – sum it all up? I just wonder, if things really are no-life, why does using my Grandma Pugsley’s soft green china on my Thanksgiving table give me such pleasure? I mean the dinner plates are significantly smaller than more modern styles, and these plates certainly aren’t dishwasher safe. I grew up far away from my grandparents, so although I never saw Grandma Pugsley’s table beautifully set, my parents did send me out one summer when I was 12 to visit Grandma Opal. She taught me to eat avocado on toast. Using that no-life, inanimate china, that I was told Granma bought with redeemed war coupons, makes me feel connected to her life.
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Someday We’ll Send Christmas Cards (Maybe)
I think it was about a month ago that Shannon said, “OK, I’m really going to send Christmas cards this year.” So have you gotten yours?
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Shiner
Suppose you happened to be wearing a strange hat. By strange, I don’t mean a hat that dispenses some beverage or looks like a block of Swiss cheese. I mean strange like a hat that is a block of Swiss cheese and has live rats wearing clown costumes running through it. And it’s on fire. You know that when you meet up with an acquaintance, the conversation hasn’t really started until there’s been a comment or question about the hat. Having a whopping black eye is kind of like that.
Bedroom Camping
In January, Ethan slept a comfortable night in a dirty snowbank while a storm blew through the area. At the same time, I was having a rough night nearby in a heated barn on a nicely padded cot. Aside from worrying about said snowbank collapsing on my son, it was simply hard to be comfortable away from my soft bed. Maybe I just haven’t conditioned myself for abnormal sleep the way Ethan does.
Logitech Layoffs
Some of you noticed that Logitech, my employer, announced a couple of weeks ago that it was going to do some layoffs, and expressed concern about whether I’d still have a job.
It was kind of a strange situation. I’ve been through a few layoffs in the past, but those have always been executed at the same time that they were announced. It made for a stressful couple of weeks, wondering if I’d be around to do the things my team was planning. Little glitches, like getting disconnected from the email server and being prompted for a password would make your heart skip a beat while you wondered if it was significant. I’m also a relatively new employee, so I was worried that that might put me at greater risk.
All the layoffs actually happened this morning, and I’m happy to say that I continue to be employed. Even better, all the people that I work most closely with also kept their jobs. There were a few from our office that were let go, though, which is always sad.
Further good news is that Alan (my brother who also works for Logitech) hung on to his job, too.
Thanks to everyone who expressed (or even just felt) concern!
A Letter to Dad
Dear Dad,
As a parent myself, I have honestly said that some of my favorite gifts to receive are the one-of-a-kind, homemade, glue, love, and macaroni encrusted works of art.
I don’t think macaroni emails very well and I’m pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as art, but here is my homemade gift just for you—and everyone else who has nothing better to do on Christmas Eve.
Snap!
Friday at work, I got a call from someone at Ethan’s school. She said that Ethan was in the office after apparently hurting his arm during recess — maybe a sprained wrist. She asked if Ethan was prone to drama since he had been lying on the floor of the nurse’s station not wanting to even get up onto the bed. “Although,” she continued, “he does look really pale and it’s hard to fake that.”
Mouse Hunting
Editor’s note: This is an essay from many years ago — when we moved into our first house. Some of you may have read this before, but it seemed like something that belonged on Sparks. It is timely for the Wrathalls since they’re currently working on terminating some unwelcome rodents with extreme prejudice.
I broke the bad news to my wife last Monday.
“I think we’ve got a mouse in the house.”
“How do you know?”
“Mouse poop. A bunch of it around the kitchen sink.”
It seemed a little unfair. I could understand having mice if we’d just bought a 50-year-old house — but a brand-new house seems like it shouldn’t be rodent-infested. I’ve come to accept spider infested — easily over 100 spiders killed in the few months we’ve lived here. Not many other kinds of bugs, though.
Welcome Home Elder Peden
It was 5:43 AM yesterday when the shower turned on. My mom was up and getting ready. I was semi-dozing in that slightly anxious way when you know your alarm is set a little later than you really need to get up. I let Shannon sleep a few minutes more, but before long, we were all up and on the road to the airport to welcome Jacob home from serving in the Micronesia Guam Mission. Here are a few pictures of the happy homecoming.
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