I went to a benefit last night for Habitat For Humanity on Bainbridge Island. The star attraction was a friend who is a real estate agent. She does a stand-up comedy routine ALL about real estate and all the trials and tribulations involved in that business. I have to admit, being a real estate agents for over 10 years, some of it was pretty damn funny. If you are in any business your have some pretty funny stories regarding the ins-and-outs of whatever it is that you are doing. Real estate is a special animal. I met some of the best friends I have ever made when I sold them a house. I also completely HATED the business...especially other real estate agents. They were some of the WORST people I have ever met. The most morally bankrupt, souless, altogether AWFUL people I've met in my life have been real estate agents. I can literally count on my hands the admirable folks I met that were part of the biz. Bridget is one of those agents. She's one of the good ones.
To continue my personal rant on real estate, I have to say that being in the business during the decline of the mortgage industry, I saw the criminal acts that were occuring to help drive our economy into the ditch. Homebuyers who didn't have to qualify based on their income to buy a home. They couldn't afford a home--you wouldn't loan these people money to buy a scooter, let alone a house! Yet people looked the other way, and they got their loans--and homes they couldn't afford which they later defaulted on. The real estate industry WAS responsible for part of what happened. You could see what was happening--if someone couldn't afford a home and you helped them buy it, YOU are complicit...bottom line. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD. I had one mortgage broker that I used in the day, and I was completely aware of what my clients were capable of buying. I NEVER had anyone buy a home that couldn't afford it. No "interest only" crap in my book...I smelled a rat on that business. I just felt that it was important to maintain that kind of standard for myself. It was the right way to do things. I would also have the mortgage broker sit down with the client in the early days of looking for a home. She would explain to them EXACTLY what their loan would entail, what the terms were and how much they could comfortably qualify for. This put us on the right track in the pursuit of their home, and not have them looking at homes they couldn't afford.
As for the other agents, I just never fit in. I never wanted to. I completely hated these people. Not my tribe. Many of them would stab you in the back to get one step in front of you. I was always the person to try and help the new agents get on their feet, or if someone was having a problem, I would do what I could to help them. I love the people I sold houses to--they are still some of the best people I know. The other agents--many of which I saw last night...auuugh! Glad not to work with you anymore.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Insane Plan
When I tell friends of our decision to sell the farm, I am typically met with open mouthed stunned stares of disbelief. I think that the reason for this, before I even get to telling them about the live aboard boat part, is also the reason why this is such a good decision: I had too many ideas for the farm.
For the last 15 years I have not only been spending almost every spare moment working on improving the farm, but also planning and drawing out what I want to do next. I have shared many of these plans with the now incredulous friends, and thus their reaction is not surprising.
It all really started twelve years ago with the first Tractorfest. We spent the better part of the summer clearing and leveling the field, campsites, and building a stage. It was an amazing day, with great music and good times with friends that has built some enduring friendships. Preparing for this annual event ironically made us somewhat anti-social. We always seemed to set the bar a little higher, and so when we saw a house in Hansville was going to be torn down, we saw an opportunity to get the materials to build a recording studio.
We stripped the house, salvaging as much of the roof and interior as possible, and then cut the walls and subfloors into ten and twelve foot sections, later to be reassembled as 12 by 20 cabins back at the farm. In the process we called in a lot of favors, but our friends seemed to revel in our crazy scheme.
The studio got built first, and has functioned as a practice space, recording studio, guest house, party room for the kids, (it is really nice to send a bunch of noisy kids out to a completely separate building,) and more recently as a Home theater with a ten foot wide projection screen. The guest house got built next, at a 90 degree angle to the first building, and then I cut cedar beams to frame up the truss that support the roof over the stage that is built in between them. That stage hosted the bands for Chloe’s sweet sixteen, as well as the tenth anniversary Tractorfest. The concrete work for the courtyard still needs to be done, but it is already an epic stage.
When I was approached by the owner for Burma Queen, a 56’ 1926 steam boat, about moving her to our property to save her, an unexpected opportunity presented itself. Jerry had a bulldozer with a six way blade that he lent me to do the dirt work to clear a site for the boat. The other two bulldozers I had already acquired were very tired, and while I had Jerry’s machine, I was able to do a lot of things I had wanted to do for awhile, like finish the road off the back of the property to connect with the old logging road on the 200 acres of timber trust, clear and level, build a circular drive around the front of the house, and do the site work to level the back of the house in preparation to put in the footings for an addition.
I had big plans for the house too. I was going to use Insulated Concrete Forms to put up a retaining wall and load bearing walls for the addition. This would have housed a mechanical room, sauna, work space, a solarium (it has good southern exposure for passive solar gain,) and expanded the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms. I was also going to add a loft bedroom when I reworked the roofline.
A friend who builds water features and owes us a favor was going to build a waterfall on the lower end, which was going to instigate yet another project to build a cedar lodge perched above it. Even further out was a subterranean recording studio above the waterfall, which I had already cleared a spot for. Then there was also the boat I cut in half as a club house for Katrianna, or the other half that was going to a balcony/ bar behind the stage.
So when people look at me and say, “Why are you selling the farm, you had so many plans,” they are also answering the question. I had so many plans, it was going to take the rest of my life to get them all done. For the last fifteen years I have been driving past my prize possession, our sailboat Gullmar, to work on a house that is worth half as much, while thinking I would get to it soon. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Thinking I was going to get it all done and go sailing into the sunset was pure insanity. Now we have a sane plan to do just that.
For the last 15 years I have not only been spending almost every spare moment working on improving the farm, but also planning and drawing out what I want to do next. I have shared many of these plans with the now incredulous friends, and thus their reaction is not surprising.
It all really started twelve years ago with the first Tractorfest. We spent the better part of the summer clearing and leveling the field, campsites, and building a stage. It was an amazing day, with great music and good times with friends that has built some enduring friendships. Preparing for this annual event ironically made us somewhat anti-social. We always seemed to set the bar a little higher, and so when we saw a house in Hansville was going to be torn down, we saw an opportunity to get the materials to build a recording studio.
We stripped the house, salvaging as much of the roof and interior as possible, and then cut the walls and subfloors into ten and twelve foot sections, later to be reassembled as 12 by 20 cabins back at the farm. In the process we called in a lot of favors, but our friends seemed to revel in our crazy scheme.
The studio got built first, and has functioned as a practice space, recording studio, guest house, party room for the kids, (it is really nice to send a bunch of noisy kids out to a completely separate building,) and more recently as a Home theater with a ten foot wide projection screen. The guest house got built next, at a 90 degree angle to the first building, and then I cut cedar beams to frame up the truss that support the roof over the stage that is built in between them. That stage hosted the bands for Chloe’s sweet sixteen, as well as the tenth anniversary Tractorfest. The concrete work for the courtyard still needs to be done, but it is already an epic stage.
When I was approached by the owner for Burma Queen, a 56’ 1926 steam boat, about moving her to our property to save her, an unexpected opportunity presented itself. Jerry had a bulldozer with a six way blade that he lent me to do the dirt work to clear a site for the boat. The other two bulldozers I had already acquired were very tired, and while I had Jerry’s machine, I was able to do a lot of things I had wanted to do for awhile, like finish the road off the back of the property to connect with the old logging road on the 200 acres of timber trust, clear and level, build a circular drive around the front of the house, and do the site work to level the back of the house in preparation to put in the footings for an addition.
I had big plans for the house too. I was going to use Insulated Concrete Forms to put up a retaining wall and load bearing walls for the addition. This would have housed a mechanical room, sauna, work space, a solarium (it has good southern exposure for passive solar gain,) and expanded the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms. I was also going to add a loft bedroom when I reworked the roofline.
A friend who builds water features and owes us a favor was going to build a waterfall on the lower end, which was going to instigate yet another project to build a cedar lodge perched above it. Even further out was a subterranean recording studio above the waterfall, which I had already cleared a spot for. Then there was also the boat I cut in half as a club house for Katrianna, or the other half that was going to a balcony/ bar behind the stage.
So when people look at me and say, “Why are you selling the farm, you had so many plans,” they are also answering the question. I had so many plans, it was going to take the rest of my life to get them all done. For the last fifteen years I have been driving past my prize possession, our sailboat Gullmar, to work on a house that is worth half as much, while thinking I would get to it soon. They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Thinking I was going to get it all done and go sailing into the sunset was pure insanity. Now we have a sane plan to do just that.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Resolution-By Vince
I’ve heard people say that you will do all the things you always wanted to do to your house just before you sell it. I had always scoffed at this notion, but now have to admit that at least in my current situation, this adage looks to be true. After discussing this with several coworkers, they shared additional data points to support this conclusion.
So what is it about the human experience that causes us to put off all of these changes until we have made the decision to move on? Several explanations come to mind.
Is it ego? We all seek validation, and want people to see value in what we have accomplished. Do we finish things just before we pass them on in order to validate the vision we had of what they could be? In our current situation I am trying to be much more pragmatic about what I do, or don’t do, to prepare the house for sale. This is not because I am above wanting to seek validation, but purely out of practicality. There is simply too much to finish for me to even contemplate trying to do it all. In fact, that there is so much to do was core to our decision to move on. I could spend the next thirty years working on the house and the property at the expense of doing the things that truly inspire me. Right now we are in triage mode. What must be finished in order to get the house to sell quickly and smoothly. We are prioritizing the things that could lead to questions, and or require having to hire out to correct before closing. We want the new owners to have a good foundation on which to customize their new home to fit their needs. What we do not want to do are things that are to our tastes that the new owners will tear out and do over.
Is it the focus that comes with getting a clear vision of where you want to go that helps you make these choices? In our case this is certainly a major factor. As I mentioned, we are performing Triage. It is a lot easier to decide just to put the drywall back up when you are not still debating if you should install hydronic heating tubes under the floor first. When you aren’t going to live with a decision for forty years, you can distance yourself emotionally enough to see that you were never going to install that tubing anyway, so just finish it, paint it a neutral color, or don’t if you don’t have time, and let the next guy figure it out. Let them decide what color tile they want in that bathroom.
Another factor in our case is that we were always working around stuff. Now that we are downsizing and preparing to move out, I can see us having most of the furniture and stuff out of the house before we sell it. It is a lot easier to repaint or fix the drywall in an empty room, or finish the counters in the kitchen when you are moved out, or close to it.
Some of the issues we simply can’t put off. For instance, when we bought the house our agent talked us out of having a survey. She was the selling agent on our property, and the listing agent on the five acres next door that was closing about the same time. She swore up and down that she had walked the property with the sellers, and that they had had the property surveyed and staked. I have been over every square inch of that property and have never found a single stake. Now with the advent of Google earth, Zillow, and the like you can go look at satellite imagery with the parcels and lines marked out. Lo and behold, the property line runs right thru the neighbor’s mobile home, which was sited while we were waiting to close. We have consulted with a lawyer, and we know what needs to be done. We will have to pay for a survey, and go negotiate with the neighbor to do a property line readjustment. We've known it for awhile, but it is easy to procrastinate when you have time.
I remember a conversation Care and I had with a friend over coffee about transformative moments. We were talking about addiction, and other self destructive behavior patterns, and he made the comment that people decide to change under two circumstances. One, they are at rock bottom, have lost everything, and thus have everything to gain by changing, or, they have nothing to lose, and see the possibilities.
Our decision to sell the house and go back to boating has definitely forced us to lose some of our preconceptions about what was and wasn’t possible, and shed some of our baggage. In hindsight, we had nothing to lose that we really needed, (or that in reality was just weighing us down,) and we are definitely for the first time in years seeing the possibilities.
So what is it about the human experience that causes us to put off all of these changes until we have made the decision to move on? Several explanations come to mind.
Is it ego? We all seek validation, and want people to see value in what we have accomplished. Do we finish things just before we pass them on in order to validate the vision we had of what they could be? In our current situation I am trying to be much more pragmatic about what I do, or don’t do, to prepare the house for sale. This is not because I am above wanting to seek validation, but purely out of practicality. There is simply too much to finish for me to even contemplate trying to do it all. In fact, that there is so much to do was core to our decision to move on. I could spend the next thirty years working on the house and the property at the expense of doing the things that truly inspire me. Right now we are in triage mode. What must be finished in order to get the house to sell quickly and smoothly. We are prioritizing the things that could lead to questions, and or require having to hire out to correct before closing. We want the new owners to have a good foundation on which to customize their new home to fit their needs. What we do not want to do are things that are to our tastes that the new owners will tear out and do over.
Is it the focus that comes with getting a clear vision of where you want to go that helps you make these choices? In our case this is certainly a major factor. As I mentioned, we are performing Triage. It is a lot easier to decide just to put the drywall back up when you are not still debating if you should install hydronic heating tubes under the floor first. When you aren’t going to live with a decision for forty years, you can distance yourself emotionally enough to see that you were never going to install that tubing anyway, so just finish it, paint it a neutral color, or don’t if you don’t have time, and let the next guy figure it out. Let them decide what color tile they want in that bathroom.
Another factor in our case is that we were always working around stuff. Now that we are downsizing and preparing to move out, I can see us having most of the furniture and stuff out of the house before we sell it. It is a lot easier to repaint or fix the drywall in an empty room, or finish the counters in the kitchen when you are moved out, or close to it.
Some of the issues we simply can’t put off. For instance, when we bought the house our agent talked us out of having a survey. She was the selling agent on our property, and the listing agent on the five acres next door that was closing about the same time. She swore up and down that she had walked the property with the sellers, and that they had had the property surveyed and staked. I have been over every square inch of that property and have never found a single stake. Now with the advent of Google earth, Zillow, and the like you can go look at satellite imagery with the parcels and lines marked out. Lo and behold, the property line runs right thru the neighbor’s mobile home, which was sited while we were waiting to close. We have consulted with a lawyer, and we know what needs to be done. We will have to pay for a survey, and go negotiate with the neighbor to do a property line readjustment. We've known it for awhile, but it is easy to procrastinate when you have time.
I remember a conversation Care and I had with a friend over coffee about transformative moments. We were talking about addiction, and other self destructive behavior patterns, and he made the comment that people decide to change under two circumstances. One, they are at rock bottom, have lost everything, and thus have everything to gain by changing, or, they have nothing to lose, and see the possibilities.
Our decision to sell the house and go back to boating has definitely forced us to lose some of our preconceptions about what was and wasn’t possible, and shed some of our baggage. In hindsight, we had nothing to lose that we really needed, (or that in reality was just weighing us down,) and we are definitely for the first time in years seeing the possibilities.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Crawl Out of the Box.....
Seems like my world has been revolving around boxes lately. Pull the boxes out of the closet, look at what is in the boxes, cancel or allow? Maybe boxes have been my entire life, come to think of it. I've never wanted to live in one, but I have, and I do. Getting ready to leave this particular box...not trading up for a new box, gonna leave the box completely.
In the last few years I have crawled out of the mental box I had made for myself. Sometimes change is difficult. I feel that everything we learn about the way we live is trained into us from a very early age. You are supposed to go to college, have a career, get married, buy a house, have kids, Buy shit to put in your house, buy cars that you are supposed to drive, go on vacation once and awhile, and most importantly: don't look outside your box. Stay in your box. Lather, rinse, repeat. This should go on until the end.
The end...which leads me to the obvious conclusion--why? Why should you do the "normal" thing, the thing that you are told to do? Will the fabric of the Universe unravel if you do something completely different? I have walked the road less-traveled and I can tell you that NOTHING happens when you do something abnormal. The sky doesn't fall, your relationship doesn't end, your children don't hate you. It's about questioning why you are doing what you are doing. If, at the end of this internal dialog you are happy, truly happy where you are at--good for you! If you aren't...well, look at the changes you can potentially make. Why not?
The only people I care about are sitting in this box with me right now (and one little person in a box in Olympia). They are excited about the new journey we will all be taking together. I don't give a crap what any of my friends think--pretty much any of my family at large. I just don't give a rat's ass. Doesn't matter to me. They will either support us in our decision to do what we feel passionate about, or they won't. We are so lucky to have so many awesome people in our life. It's about throwing the lines off, taking chances....you only have one life. Live it.
In the last few years I have crawled out of the mental box I had made for myself. Sometimes change is difficult. I feel that everything we learn about the way we live is trained into us from a very early age. You are supposed to go to college, have a career, get married, buy a house, have kids, Buy shit to put in your house, buy cars that you are supposed to drive, go on vacation once and awhile, and most importantly: don't look outside your box. Stay in your box. Lather, rinse, repeat. This should go on until the end.
The end...which leads me to the obvious conclusion--why? Why should you do the "normal" thing, the thing that you are told to do? Will the fabric of the Universe unravel if you do something completely different? I have walked the road less-traveled and I can tell you that NOTHING happens when you do something abnormal. The sky doesn't fall, your relationship doesn't end, your children don't hate you. It's about questioning why you are doing what you are doing. If, at the end of this internal dialog you are happy, truly happy where you are at--good for you! If you aren't...well, look at the changes you can potentially make. Why not?
The only people I care about are sitting in this box with me right now (and one little person in a box in Olympia). They are excited about the new journey we will all be taking together. I don't give a crap what any of my friends think--pretty much any of my family at large. I just don't give a rat's ass. Doesn't matter to me. They will either support us in our decision to do what we feel passionate about, or they won't. We are so lucky to have so many awesome people in our life. It's about throwing the lines off, taking chances....you only have one life. Live it.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Out of the Closet...
Today I didn't clean at all. Didn't set one foot in the dreaded closet of doom (which is almost empty now, by the way) I did get done things that needed to get done. I sat on the phone with an insurance company for hours...*sigh* I have come to the final conclusion, and at the end of our long and arduous journey, that we are all well fucked in this country with regards to health care. I really mean it. It's criminal, this system. We pay insurance companies money, and they spend their resources paying people to figure out how NOT to pay legitimate claims....it's a joke. Enough on that...when it's all done, and I have a nice fat check in my hands I'll fill you in on all the details. I'm told that it will be any day now. I have learned not to believe anything they tell me.
Vince and I spent part of the evening looking at what we like to call "boat porn." This is shopping for boats. We usually spend a bit of time kicking the tires of boats we can't possibly afford...unless I can dig through the couch and find an extra 7 million in the cushions. I've seen boats that are INSANE, so much money. We have simple tastes...I think we just like to marvel at the amount of money people are will to spend on outfitting a yacht. Even if we had money like that, I would have a hard time spending it on a boat. Oh hell, what am I saying...no I wouldn't! I'd go out and find the yacht that was most worth saving, something that was on the brink of being lost forever. I'd restore it for posterity. That is the beauty of boats, they don't really BELONG to you...you are simply a steward for a point in time, and it is up to you to restore the boat in the manner that is in keeping with how she was put together originally. I see some terrible, terrible restorations on historic wooden boats. People think that modern technology has brought forth ways to make old wooden boats "better." Epoxy is a usual suspect in this endeavor to ruin boats. A wooden boat is a living, breathing thing. It's a system. Slapping epoxy into a wooden boat is like putting a plastic bag over your head. You'll kill it. It will still look pretty. For awhile. Ultimately these boats that have been restored in this manner will be lost. It's a shame.
That is one of the things we encounter when we go shopping. What will we find? Good or bad? We know our stuff....we know good from bad, which is great for us, but it's still sad to see abused old boats. We have to find a good living old being to take on. Rough around the edges, perhaps, but all there..ready to be loved.
Anyway....more work tomorrow. I could go on about wooden boats all night. Then again, that's love. Or sickness. Which is which? Who cares.
Vince and I spent part of the evening looking at what we like to call "boat porn." This is shopping for boats. We usually spend a bit of time kicking the tires of boats we can't possibly afford...unless I can dig through the couch and find an extra 7 million in the cushions. I've seen boats that are INSANE, so much money. We have simple tastes...I think we just like to marvel at the amount of money people are will to spend on outfitting a yacht. Even if we had money like that, I would have a hard time spending it on a boat. Oh hell, what am I saying...no I wouldn't! I'd go out and find the yacht that was most worth saving, something that was on the brink of being lost forever. I'd restore it for posterity. That is the beauty of boats, they don't really BELONG to you...you are simply a steward for a point in time, and it is up to you to restore the boat in the manner that is in keeping with how she was put together originally. I see some terrible, terrible restorations on historic wooden boats. People think that modern technology has brought forth ways to make old wooden boats "better." Epoxy is a usual suspect in this endeavor to ruin boats. A wooden boat is a living, breathing thing. It's a system. Slapping epoxy into a wooden boat is like putting a plastic bag over your head. You'll kill it. It will still look pretty. For awhile. Ultimately these boats that have been restored in this manner will be lost. It's a shame.
That is one of the things we encounter when we go shopping. What will we find? Good or bad? We know our stuff....we know good from bad, which is great for us, but it's still sad to see abused old boats. We have to find a good living old being to take on. Rough around the edges, perhaps, but all there..ready to be loved.
Anyway....more work tomorrow. I could go on about wooden boats all night. Then again, that's love. Or sickness. Which is which? Who cares.
Busy versus Competent--by Vince
In a country that seems more and more to value throw away and buy it new over maintain and repair, I am lucky to live in a county where there are still a number of small repair businesses. I think this is most likely due to large presence of Naval repair activities in our area, but regardless, as a Do It Yourself type person, I appreciate the choices it gives me.
Recently in the course of refurbishing my steam cleaner, I found the motor needed some minor repairs. I looked up several local motor repair shops, and selected one convenient to my commute. On the way home, I stopped off, got the motor out, and carried it into this business.
I was immediately struck when I entered by the clutter. I had a difficult time finding a space on the counter to set my heavy motor down. There were rows of shelves full of motors with work tickets attached, waiting to be worked, and since these were full, lined along the walkways on the floor were even more. I waited to be helped by the obviously very busy technician. I didn’t mind the wait, because I have always loved to take things apart to see how they worked, so I wandered around the shop, looking at various partially assembled motors.
When it was my turn to be helped, the man was very polite and professional. Meanwhile several more customers had come in behind me. One was dropping something off, and was instructed to leave it by the door on the floor, due to the lack of shelf space. The technician made a call to the manufacturer representative, and I was informed that he would need to research the correct part, so he took my name and number, and promised to call when he had the needed information.
That was on Monday. On Thursday, knowing how busy he was, I called to see if he had the part. He told me no, that the factory rep had yet to call him back, and that he would call him and give me a call back. The following Tuesday, tired of waiting, I had some errands at the other end of the county, and decided to take the motor by a competitors shop.
I was immediately struck by the contrast between the two businesses. There were motors on shelves, but these were display models ready to be sold, not damaged motors waiting to be looked after. Behind the counter I could see the work area. A man was working on a motor, occasionally reaching up for a tool or part, but otherwise not moving. I could see everything clearly labeled on the bins and pegboard, and in contrast there were no other partially disassembled motors waiting for his attention. I was helped immediately, and after explaining what I needed was handed a claim ticket and told it would be ready by mid week. As I left, I glanced back to see the man from the counter pick up my motor, turn, and take two steps to place my motor on the bench directly behind the busy technician. Less than 36 hours after dropping it off, they called to tell me my motor was ready for pickup.
Now some would argue that the clutter of the previous shop was indicative of a high demand for the services of this business. Following the same logic, some would question the quality of the work of the latter, citing the lack of backlog as an indication of a low volume of business. Knowing that the latter business has been there for over 50 years, and is the factory authorized “Baldor” brand repair facility, I have complete confidence in my motor now that they have repaired it. Knowing their proximity to the shipyard, I know they experience a high volume. The reason they have no backlog is because their turnaround time is so fast. Customers typically value three things to varying degrees; cost, quality, and schedule. As the customer in this scenario, I can honestly say that I am satisfied on all three accounts.
From a Lean perspective, the two experiences illustrate what we call the “Eight Wastes.” These are: Rework, Inventory, Overproduction, Waiting, Motion, Transportation, Over-processing, and Waste of Human Capitol. The first business and I had to interact both in person, and then a follow up on the phone, and I’m sure this would have continued had I not given up, and yet none of this rework on the initial attempt by me to communicate what I wanted was getting my motor fixed. With the second business this process step took less than three minutes and only once. The inventory problem was obvious. By any account; number of items, pounds, or variety, the previous business had way more stuff crammed into about the same space. Yet I doubt he had the capacitor I needed, or if he did, would have been able to find it. I’m guessing in all the clutter, there were multiple motors ready for sale, where at the second business I could only see one of each type on display. I waited for over a week before giving up on the first business, but barely a day for a completed product from the second. In the first business I watched the technician walk back and forth between the catalogs, manuals, and phone, and I couldn’t even see where the actual work was done. Even though the first business was closer to my house, I would have had to transport the motor there at least three times; once for the initial request, again once the part was available, and a third time to pick it up. If the amount of rework on the customer request step was any indication, I am sure there would have been more over-processing. Despite the fact that the individual I dealt with initially seemed very intelligent, I never got to observe him use his talents to do any real problem solving, and I doubt that with all the answering of phones and walking around clutter that his skills as an electrical technician are truly being utilized.
So why is it that we admire people who are busy, assuming they are engaged, hard working, and competent? They may be all those things, but are they really accomplishing anything in the process?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Taking Out the Trash...
By the title of this particular blog, you can see that my life has been exceedingly glamorous today. I did get that done, though--the taking out of the trash. It contained more than the usual array of junk. More stuff that had no more use--not even for charity.
This process is requiring that I take out some mental trash as well. I read through Vince's blogging and see one of the reasons I've always tried to keep all these material possessions around me--the idea of scarcity...if I get rid of something I might need later, I'll regret it. Turns out I was just as guilty as Vince about keeping these things (as much as I like to bitch that all this crap is Vince's, I should have gotten rid of it of my own accord....I didn't because I couldn't). I grew up in such a way that I always worried that I wouldn't have enough of certain things. This extends well beyond the measure of material possessions. I have found that there is no scarcity with regards to things like "love," either. That was a big lesson for me--that things can go away with no pain of want, and that love isn't a well that just runs dry one day. Surprising that it took me so long to learn such a seemingly simple lesson, but it did. I learned it through all the amazing people who have come into our lives during the past few years, and some that have been here for the long-haul only to be rediscovered in a new light. I learned it because I was finally ready to hear the message. I guess I should just be glad I figured it out at all....and I am grateful.
I'm looking forward to some great adventures in the future. I've always had the attitude of "nothing ventured, nothing gained"--but with so much less to hold us down, it will be that much easier to move in the directions that we've always wanted to. I love the idea of living on the boat, cruising around the Puget Sound with family and our extended family of friends. Adventure, sharing experiences. These are the thoughts that sustain me through some pretty difficult decisions. I've had to re-home my horse in the last couple of weeks--she still belongs to me, but she will be used as a lesson horse for children at a local stable. That was hard. Really hard. Having a horse had been my dream for as long as I could remember. My first word was "horse." I was absolutely obsessed, in every sense of the word.
I spent time building a life and a family--then, when we moved to this farm 15 years ago, I knew that the dream of owning a horse could finally be a reality. I found Lacey 8 years ago on a farm that I was the selling agent for in my previous career as a real estate agent. She was so beautiful--gorgeous white with little red spots all over, and a big red "V" on her forehead. This is a statement that most people, unless they are horse-crazy girls would never understand, but she "took my breath away." She is half Arabian, half Appaloosa. She and I had a good relationship right off the bat, but she was slow to trust even me. She had been severely abused. I suspect she had been beaten, especially about her head. It took me years to be able to touch her head--her ears. She trusts me completely now, knows that she is always safe and that I love her. That is why it is so hard to see her have a life somewhere else. I feel such a huge responsibilty for her.
I still go and visit her everyday, but it's not the same. She is in the care of someone else now. This was the most difficult decision so far...getting rid of "stuff" is one thing, but Lacey is as close to family as I think an animal can be. She feels like "people" to me.
She taught me the capacity to trust and love--despite her painful past. It amazed me how much she loved children. Both Chloe and Katri learned to ride on her. She was always a loving a patient teacher. I'll never forget Katri when she was little more than a toddler underneath Lacey, reaching up to brush her belly, giant smile on her face--and Lacey looking back at her. She looked so happy, too. Arrghh! It's so hard! I know it's the right decision for her, and me...but it's still so difficult.
I feel like the last few years has been a huge period of growth for me--and us, but it now feels like the learning curve just went up a few notches. I'm handling it.....
This process is requiring that I take out some mental trash as well. I read through Vince's blogging and see one of the reasons I've always tried to keep all these material possessions around me--the idea of scarcity...if I get rid of something I might need later, I'll regret it. Turns out I was just as guilty as Vince about keeping these things (as much as I like to bitch that all this crap is Vince's, I should have gotten rid of it of my own accord....I didn't because I couldn't). I grew up in such a way that I always worried that I wouldn't have enough of certain things. This extends well beyond the measure of material possessions. I have found that there is no scarcity with regards to things like "love," either. That was a big lesson for me--that things can go away with no pain of want, and that love isn't a well that just runs dry one day. Surprising that it took me so long to learn such a seemingly simple lesson, but it did. I learned it through all the amazing people who have come into our lives during the past few years, and some that have been here for the long-haul only to be rediscovered in a new light. I learned it because I was finally ready to hear the message. I guess I should just be glad I figured it out at all....and I am grateful.
I'm looking forward to some great adventures in the future. I've always had the attitude of "nothing ventured, nothing gained"--but with so much less to hold us down, it will be that much easier to move in the directions that we've always wanted to. I love the idea of living on the boat, cruising around the Puget Sound with family and our extended family of friends. Adventure, sharing experiences. These are the thoughts that sustain me through some pretty difficult decisions. I've had to re-home my horse in the last couple of weeks--she still belongs to me, but she will be used as a lesson horse for children at a local stable. That was hard. Really hard. Having a horse had been my dream for as long as I could remember. My first word was "horse." I was absolutely obsessed, in every sense of the word.
I spent time building a life and a family--then, when we moved to this farm 15 years ago, I knew that the dream of owning a horse could finally be a reality. I found Lacey 8 years ago on a farm that I was the selling agent for in my previous career as a real estate agent. She was so beautiful--gorgeous white with little red spots all over, and a big red "V" on her forehead. This is a statement that most people, unless they are horse-crazy girls would never understand, but she "took my breath away." She is half Arabian, half Appaloosa. She and I had a good relationship right off the bat, but she was slow to trust even me. She had been severely abused. I suspect she had been beaten, especially about her head. It took me years to be able to touch her head--her ears. She trusts me completely now, knows that she is always safe and that I love her. That is why it is so hard to see her have a life somewhere else. I feel such a huge responsibilty for her.
I still go and visit her everyday, but it's not the same. She is in the care of someone else now. This was the most difficult decision so far...getting rid of "stuff" is one thing, but Lacey is as close to family as I think an animal can be. She feels like "people" to me.
She taught me the capacity to trust and love--despite her painful past. It amazed me how much she loved children. Both Chloe and Katri learned to ride on her. She was always a loving a patient teacher. I'll never forget Katri when she was little more than a toddler underneath Lacey, reaching up to brush her belly, giant smile on her face--and Lacey looking back at her. She looked so happy, too. Arrghh! It's so hard! I know it's the right decision for her, and me...but it's still so difficult.
I feel like the last few years has been a huge period of growth for me--and us, but it now feels like the learning curve just went up a few notches. I'm handling it.....
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