A Cricket in . . .

A Cricket in . . .

At night I read different books to our kids. We try to read classics and books that have a history of inspiring people. We like to read the book and see how they compare to the movie. There has only been one we liked the movie better, but that is for a different day. We have read stories from Chronicles of Narnia, to Pilgrims Progress (updated to contemporary language), to the Guardians of Ga'hoole.

We recently finished a little book that we were all surprised by. I must make a few confessions first.
1. I didn't want to read the book. I thought a story about a cat, mouse, and cricket would be boring and ridiculous.
2. The book got misplaced about a third of the way through. No, I did not hide it, it legitimately got lost in the Abyss we refer to as the "kids' room".
3. I was disappointing when we found it, but the kids were excited.
4. I cried at the end of the book. (No I didn't see that coming.)

This little book is "The Cricket in Time Square" by George Selden and illustrated by Garth Williams. It was published in 1960 and won a Newbery Award in 1961. It is about a cricket, Chester, who inadvertently moved to, you guessed it, Time square subway station. He gets found by a little boy, Mario, whose family own a newspaper stand. He has several adventures of going to china town to get a cricket cage, becoming a famous singer, and learning the big city. He makes two other friends, Tucker mouse and Harry cat. That is all I will say about the story.

 
This is a beautifully well written story of friendship. Unlikely friendships that developed and the love that grow between them. It is a story of selfless encouragement and different beauty around us. There are many valuable lessons from this story. My favorite lesson is that we are made unique. Unique gifts and talents. Unique backgrounds and experiences. Unique qualities that some times have to be learned or purposefully listened for.

If this story is not on your shelf, it should be in your lap. It is so funny and moving. There are not many stories that have touched me like this one has. Why? Well, I think for me, I was a country cricket who had spent time with wonderful people, in different places, but finally had to go home. I loved the people I was with, and the places I lived. They have made a long lasting, eternal even, impact on my life. I believe, I made an impact on other's lives where I was at. But I, like Chester Cricket, had to return home. The draw of the mountains, the smell of the rains, the love of the people all pulled me into this hollow in the mountain to use my gifts and abilities for the glory of God.

As I read about Chester and his friends, my mind flew back over the last several years. The friends that encouraged me. The people who told me they were praying for me. The lessons that I learned. The unlikely heroes I met. The friends I have left in other places. I, like Chester cricket, have a lot to be thankful for, and a lot of people who love me.

May you, like Chester Cricket, sing your song for all to hear, as only you can sing it.

Dad Day: Chucking Tomahawks

What guy, in his right mind, having grown up watching westerns and revolutionary war movies doesn't long to know how to through a Tomahawk. Even if I wasn't raised in the mountains and didn't spent all my early years in the woods, I would love to know how to throw one  properly, accurately, and consistently. After all, what red blooded American Man hasn't thought of needing to go all Benjamin Martin if the red coats re-invade the states.

In our house we try to learn as much as we can about how things were done 100 plus years. They were geniuses back then and our thought is this will help learn creative problem solving, self sustainability and it's just flat out cool. We planted the "Three Sisters" Indian crops this summer, corn, beans and squash. They did amazing and we have enjoyed eating them. We have learned to shoot archery and guns. We learn to harvest woodland vegetables and mushrooms. We learned to throw Tomahawks.

Now I must admit, I have always wanted to learn to properly throw a Tomahawk. That is way up there on my list. I don't mind if my kids learn to throw them. I didn't expect it to be like this, however.

It started out as any family outing, setting up the tents, taking hikes, fussing about playing in the fire that only I should be playing in. We did the interpretive stuff around the park and had a great time. Friends that we like to hang out with were there. We ground cornmeal and got to take a big bag of it home. But the whole weekend was leading up to the Tomahawk throwing.

I thought there would be some beardy mountain man looking feller with a coyote skin hat, leather satchel, and lace-up buck skin moccasin boots.  I also thought there would be a safe distance, well marked perimeter, and guy that would DEMONSTRATE how cool he was by throwing tomahawks in dozens of different ways and distances never missing.

Elijah throwing and Caleb watching.

When I pull up in the truck from loading all our camping gear, there is one old man. I mean helped Daniel Boone blaze the trail across Pine Mountain and decided to just stay there old, with a string of 7-9 year old boys lined up with looks of pure exstacy and adventure in a trance as metal weapons sliced through the air in a terrifying dance of deadly summer-saws. Then just at the split second when you think the dance will end, they spring back through the air with an encore of misguided ricochets that reminds you of a Miley Cyrus performance. The weapon then falls into the leaves waiting for its little dance instructor to come and give it new life in its next chilling routine.


But there are two throwers, at the same time. As the little Mahican goes after his tomahawk, . . . you guessed it, the next kid releases his macabre dance of terror.

Gasps sucked the dried leaves from around the area as moms closed their eyes, babies cried, and men fainted. Actually the men didn't notice. We just wanted to throw, and we are coaching our kids to properly throw a weapon we have never attempted in all our live long days.

We wanted to get our hands on those little axes and release our inner William Wallace.

I would love to tell you this scene only played once, and some one went over and helped the little old guide control this band of blood thirsty woodsmen. No, it happened a couple of times, exactly like that. So, finally when my loving, caring, protecting wife had practically hyperventilated, and our friend was ready to scalp someone, I went over.

Lucas throwing and Mollie getting ready.

They were a good bunch of kids and we talked about safety and how it was like shooting a BB gun or archery. How we had to wait, watch and listen to everything going on around us. We had to watch out for others around us. How this was a weapon that deserved the same respect as other weapons. I was instilling in these strange boys life lessons that would make them better men and husbands.  I was shaping them into respecters of people and tools. I was the Jedi Knight training these young unknown padawans. Their mothers would thank me with words of undying gratitude. Their fathers would hear my prophecy and carry them on. It was a good day. Nobody had died, yet.

Targets were cross cut logs with 2x4's nailed onto it and one boy knocked the leg off. Some dads went over to pick it up and nail it back on, so the fun would continue. The throwers were all back were they were suppose to be. The hawks were pointed down. Everyone's eyes were on the dads who had stepped up to save the day. Then, it happened. The tomahawk came up and released into the air without anyone noticing. It's sick little dance was short and like all the others, bounced off the second log with morbid desire to take life and limb. It wanted to continue it's dance, not settling for the mere wood stump it was sent flying at. Oh no, it leaped up into the air cart-wheeling itself towards it's new destination and landed with a ghastly curtsy next to the leg of the dad of the thrower.

There was that movie perfect moment when every breath stopped and every brain had to process what had just happened. When time stood still as every person there locked eyes on that weapon that stared at the ankle it had so wanted to find.

It was a good weekend. Nobody died. Nobody was injured. But there was a lesson learned there that was not taught by me or any other dad. Lessons we learn the hard way. Lessons that teach louder than words and are carried on to the next generations. Lessons that as men are never chucked away.

We like learning new things, especially traditional hands-on skills. As for the Estep household, the kids did well, and listened as good as any other kid. They even made them stick a few times. I know what you really want to know, and I don't think we will be getting throwing tomahawks any time soon.

Go do something new this week.

9 Things that help the brain work, kinda.

I was at a park recently and watched a squirrel hide it's nuts. Squirrels are one of my favorite animals. They are cute, they work hard, they twitch their tail all spastic if they are nervous or showing off. They are fast, skillful and walk around on trees upside down, sideways and up ways and any other way with no regard at all for the laws of gravity and physics. Who can't appreciate something that ignores those types of rules. They squeak at each other and are the source of a plethora of hilarious memes. Not to mention all of the Oak trees they plant each fall by hiding their collection of nuts.

My first love for squirrels came in high school, on a trip to Williamsburg, Virginia, where I fed a squirrel. I shared my waffle cone with the little guy, and he just sat on a barrel eating out of my open hand. Later my wife and I fed squirrels black cherries at the lake by hand. Of course any half-way decent fan of Bob Ross knows there are happy little squirrels living in all kinds of trees and woods near the water.

Squirrels have had a bad rap about remembering where they plant all those acorns for the winter. My thought has always been, if that was the case, why are there not more Oak trees and more starved to death squirrels. I came across this little study about squirrels and found out they have excellent memories about where they hide their acorns and will often leave other squirrel's caches alone.

So what's the point of all of this? I don't know I like squirrels and even spastic little rodents have ways of keeping track of things and systems in place to help them get the job done. Well, it goes that way for folks who have a hard time paying attention. There are things we can do, that probably distract and annoy the crap out of everyone else, that helps us. So here are some activities that help.

1. Brain Gym 

I love Brain Gym. I learned about it in college when I took a training course on Appreciative Inquiry and Youth. It was like hooking booster cable up to my head and turning the key. It's simple movements and pressure points and small activities to stimulate the brain. Little things that most people won't notice or think too much about. Of course some activities are standing and involve the full body, but when stealth is needed, these can carry you another 10-15 minutes in a lecture.  Here is link to a quick chart and the official braingym website.
http://sspw.dpi.wi.gov/files/sspw/pdf/sascevanshandouts.pdf
www.braingym.org

2. Doodle

If you sit next to me in church or a training seminar, you will see me draw almost the entire time. My notes on sermons and teachings are almost as much drawings of what they are talking about as their are words on a page. They aren't good drawing, but quick and simple so as not to get distracted. I use ink because I can't erase and get detailed, so what is there is there. Notes don't have to be in a formal collegiate MLA style.That's ridiculous and to high an expectation.  My notes often run sideways or in a box to stand out. 

In a lecture or training I like the ZENtangles. They don't matter, it is repetitive and simple enough to just do and still gather information or details without slowly sketching into another world. There is also no erasing so again, it is as it is. http://tanglepatterns.com/

3. Knot tying

I like tying notes because I can keep string in my pocket and gives my fingers something to fiddle with and forces me to focus small. Rope is cheap and easy to come by. I can stand and pace or sit and cross my legs. It goes back to the brain gym activities of giving my hands and both sides of my brain something to do. The simplest and best for this are repetitive bars and signets, like the paracord bracelets. It is also a relaxing things to do a conversation starter. Most of us with ADD have a hard time carrying on conversations, and believe or don't, this helps. 

4. Clocks set to the right time

Setting the clock 10 minutes fast does not help us. We know it's 10 minutes fast therefore we think we have more time and that means more distraction. For me, the clock has to be right and all the clocks have to be the same. Otherwise there is confusion and chaos and that means more time to be late. Maybe that isn't logical to you, but its how it goes.

5. Encouragement

This is not a feed my ego kind of thing. But if you berate a person with ADD/ ADHD over punctuality, not paying attention, always forgetting, or being sub-standard, then it only makes things worse. Most people with ADD are very hard on themselves and feel very down on themselves already. We realize we don't meet expectations. We genuinely try, but always come up short. Your continual confirmation of these types of feelings only gives us less hope and more punches of the feelings we are already beating ourselves up with. 

6. Curiously Strong Mints - Altoids

I know it may sound stupid but those Originally Celebrated Curiously Strong Mint candies do a lot to open the brain. It is proven strong smells activate the brain and stimulate memory. I keep a tin of them in the truck, in my desk drawer and in my messenger bag (no that is not a murse or UR-a-peeing man-bag). Not to mention, this is the one thing that everyone else appreciates because who doesn't like a minty fresh mouth. Gum has the same effect and excellent way to keep the brain going.

7. Simplicity

I try to keep very little on my desk now. If I can keep it in a drawer or out of sight I try to keep it there. I try to have the simplest objects and tools I need for the job. I try to throw things away and shred every little piece of paper possible. (ok, I just like cutting things up, I know that) My desk top wall paper is gray tones or solid gray with no unnecessary icons. My work computer has 7icons on the desktop. This is not OCD by any means, this takes effort and purpose.

8. Routine

Same thing with where I put stuff. I have to make myself  put things in the same place every time, so I can find it later My keys hang right beside the door. My wallet and pocket stuff goes on my dresser in my knife case drawer. If not, more distractions and searching for something only uncovers even more distractions, if I can keep up with what I'm searching for. In this regard I am not like a squirrel. I find a book, did I finish this, open to the book mark, read a few paragraphs, realize I was looking for something. Try to remember what I'm looking for. It's a horrible cycle.

9. A Patient Woman

Maybe i could put supportive family, but this is my list, so, get your own Katie. I realize nobody else is blessed to be married to Katie, for she is very patient with me. She repeats things to me, sends reminder emails, gently redirects if I get distracted, without ever putting me down. God has giving me the "helper suitable" I need. I can't thank him enough for her. Now, don't get me wrong. There are times when she would like to take a frying pan to my head or bury me in the back yard with the rest of the nuts, but she loves me and helps me. Family who can help and a wife that doesn't nag is a BIG deal.  

So if you have folks in your family that may need a little redirection or ideas to stay on task, hopefully this will help. Until later, KEEP CALM and WATCH SQUIRRELS.