At a Crossroads: An Opportunity To Make a Difference

Life has the bizarre tendency to throw curve balls at us.  I’ve had a couple of them this year, whipping at me out of nowhere and I’ve survived them.  I dare say that I’ll survive this latest one that has not only eluded my bat, but is now circling me with a moral dilemma and a rush of righteous indignation. 

What the crap is wrong with society?   

How is it that a kid – any kid! - is neglected, abandoned and abused and left without any source of assistance, guidance or even rudimentary help?  How have we, as a community, as a society, managed to get to a point where we are more concerned about making weapons and getting to Mars than taking care of our own planet and our own people?  Billions of dollars are spent on space exploration, on the military, and on other wasteful and stupid things while kids – KIDS! – are abused, hungry, unloved and uncared for right here in our own back yards. 

I’m not going to even pretend that I am the least bit politically savvy.  I honestly don’t give a rabid rodent’s rosy red rectum what goes on in parliament or wherever it is that the elected elite gather to further fuck up our lives with their ridiculous notions of what they think we need.  It’s such a pathetic and unproductive system as far as I can tell and seriously needs to be as abandoned as some of the people it is supposedly in place to serve – forget protect.  The education system has become a joke.  The legal system is a joke.  Social services have become social disservices and the government is a nothing more than a gaggle of squawking geese honking their own horns with little or no idea of how they are impacting the people who elect them, their country or the world.  It makes me sick.

If you can’t tell, I’m slightly pissed off.  As much because I don’t know what to do about it as because of the way things are.  But I do not mean to disparage any of the well-intentioned within these systems who do care and do try to make a difference.  I know that there are many in the government, the law and social services that really do want to make things better.  

I make my living managing a small public library.  I make dozens of decisions every day that have a wide variety of effect throughout the community and even throughout the province.  Sometimes the choices are easy – what books to buy, what books to withdraw.  Sometimes they are not so cut and dried.  Sometimes I have to say, “No.”  To the best of my ability, I try to make the decisions I make with the greater good in mind and I accept and understand that I can’t please all of the people all of the time.  I’m also quite willing to rescind a decision that isn’t serving the greater good and I take responsibility for it, try to learn from it and try to make better future choices.  It’s all I can do. 

I also try to accept that other people do the best they can, too.  I can put myself in their shoes to a point and I can fully appreciate that circumstances are not always conducive to making good choices – in one’s personal life or professional life.  But when I see a kid who no one gives a crap about and no one who could be in a position to do something for that kid steps up, I get a little frustrated. 

We are led to believe that we are a caring society.  We so are not.  And I am as much a part of that lack of caring as anyone else.  I sit on my own high horse and tell myself that I follow the rules, I work hard and pay my bills, I’m a good person who functions in society as I am intended to.  And if I can do it, so can everyone else.  If only it was so simple.  If only it was a perfect world…

My choices have recently landed me in what may be interpreted as a bit of a pickle.  I honestly, within my limited scope of reasoning at the time, thought that my choices were not malicious or threatening or that they would be interpreted as such by anyone.  I actually expected that those affected by my choices would simply adjust and carry on.  Apparently, I underestimated one person who did see them as malicious and threatening and reacted in a manner that frightened me just a little; enough to take the matter to the police, not with the intention of getting this person in trouble, but in the desperate hope of getting him some help.  He needs help! 

For the last four years I have watched this kid come and go in the library.  From the get-go, it was obvious that he has some severely debilitating limitations.  He’s quite intelligent; however, he does possess some sort of mental health issue that I am not qualified to diagnose.  I have some theories, but I cannot be certain.  He lacks social skills, life skills and basic personal hygiene skills.  He is also very curious and has been educated enough to be able to read and write fairly proficiently.  Watching him over the years, I have come to the conclusion that, with some help, he could function quite well.  He is teachable and I think that he could be a reasonably productive member of our community and that he does have something of value to contribute.  If he could get some help!

Three years ago, I went to social services about him.  I was concerned about the way he appeared not to be getting proper nourishment and that he wasn’t attending school.  When we asked him if he was in school, he replied that he was home schooled.  When we asked him what courses he was studying, he wigged out and shut down because he didn’t know the answers.  No one told him what they were supposed to be and he didn’t understand what that meant.  My intention was to get the people that I believed were in a position to help, to help him.  I was told by a social worker that I should call his mother and tell her my concerns.  Really? 

I pressed for them to do something for him instead, but nothing came of it.  I have no idea what, if anything, they did do.  I was told that the family refused assistance. 

The library is a safe haven for this kid, who has been known to walk around with large sums of cash.  When he’s in the library, I can be relatively sure that he’s not causing trouble or being bothered.   Occasionally staff do have to speak to him about his behaviour when it becomes disruptive.  We do this firmly, but kindly, knowing that he can be unpredictable at times in his reactions.  He avoids me and had displayed clear animosity toward me in the past.  I mean him no harm and would dearly love to see him get the help he needs.  I am concerned for his safety and his well-being.  I don’t know how to help him. 

When I discovered that he was sitting on the cold stone benches at the back of the library after hours using the wi-fi, I was alarmed.  Winter has set in and I am uncomfortable knowing that he is sitting in a relatively isolated spot in the cold and dark for heaven knows how long at night all by himself.  He has a laptop and – as I’ve said – carries large amounts of cash at times.  He is vulnerable and, in spite of being left to his own devices most of the time, not very street-smart.  I thought that if I turned off the wi-fi after hours, he would go home, or at least get off the streets and find a safer place to be out of the cold and not in such an isolated place. 

I was wrong.

His reaction was unexpected and even more alarming.  He chased my van down the street. 

Feeling horribly guilty and uncertain of his intentions, I decided to report the incident to the police.  I felt unsafe and I felt deeply concerned about his safety.  My hope, and my intention, was not to get him in trouble, but that he might get the attention of those that can help him.  Chasing a moving vehicle down the middle of the road is not a wise thing to do by any estimation.  I didn’t even see him and only know about it because another staff member witnessed the whole thing.  That was probably the worst part of it for me.  What if he had slipped on the icy road and been hit by another car?  What if he had caught up to me at the stop sign?  What was his intention?  I don’t know.

Based on past experience, I decided to continue turning off the wi-fi at night.  I thought that, as in the past when things have changed, he would adjust and accept it.  He chased me again.  Only this time, he left a few minutes earlier and was waiting for me at the end of the road.  When he saw my vehicle, he started running in the direction that he assumed I would turn, possibly thinking that he could get ahead of me.  Clearly he wanted to see where I was going.  I turned down a different road and doubled back to the library, then turned in the opposite direction and took an alternative route home.  I could see him watching me and could tell he was somewhat baffled by the maneuver.  

What’s next, I wondered.  Is he going to leave a bit earlier next time, go a little further and wait for me so he can see where I’m going?  Why does he want to know?  What does he intend to do when he finds out?   I called the police again.  As with the first report, they were reluctant to get involved.  They are aware of him and are under the distinct impression that he is incapable of causing – or even intending – any personal harm.  I’m not so sure.

Am I being paranoid?  I don’t think so.  He isn’t stupid.  He does not lack intelligence.  He can be quite calculating and cunning in his own fashion.  He has some plan, very likely half-baked, that he wants to carry out.  Whatever it is, I don’t want him to have the chance to see it through. 

I could just start leaving the wi-fi on again and let whatever happens happen.  How shitty am I going to feel if someone – the wrong someone – notices him and accosts him while he’s sitting alone in the cold at the back of the library?  Pretty shitty, I think.  Is it going to come down to someone, either him or someone else, getting hurt before something is done?  And then what will be done?  Do I turn a blind eye?  Do I keep hammering at the police, social services, or anyone else I can think of until something happens?  What do I do?  How can I make a difference in this kid’s life?  Where is the help he needs? 

As I sit here in my lovely home with my nice stuff, my good health, knowing that I have people in my life that care about and love me, I feel grateful, humble and – perhaps incongruently – privileged.  I have it pretty damn good.  I’m happy and I’m more prosperous than a lot of people in the world.  I want to do the right thing.  I don’t know what the right thing is. 

I feel like I’m being called upon to…  do something.  I’m overwhelmed at the enormity of whatever that something might be.  I can’t fix the whole world.  I can’t even seem to be able to make one scared and lonely kid’s life a little better.  I am convinced that, with a bit of coaching, he could make something of himself.  I’m convinced that he could have a decent life with enough food and a safe, warm bed to sleep in at night.  I’m certain that he can be happy.  I want all these things for him.  But I’ve let him down.  Right along with the rest of society.  He’s just been let down.

This whole incident has given me pause.  I’ve been thinking a lot about my own behaviour and motives and have come to the realization that since I’ve not been part of the solution, I must be part of the problem.  There is an opportunity here for me.  I can see that clearly enough.  I just haven’t figured out what that opportunity is or what action I need to take.  My decision was well-intentioned, but poorly executed.  I made a mistake, the consequences of which I must now endure.   I now have new choices to make. 

This isn’t easy for me.   I tend not to be very sympathetic and have little tolerance for people who make bad choices for themselves and then expect others to fix things for them – particularly when the innocent are caught in the proverbial crossfire.  I admire accountability and try to practice that.  At the same time, I get really choked and offended when others don’t live up to my standards and expectations.  It’s a bit duplicitous of me, I know.   I am confident that we all get what we give and that we create what happens in our lives for ourselves.   Intention carries a lot of weight, but it does not absolve misguided action. 

I am off now to do some errands and get on with my projects.   While I go through my day, my duties and my dalliances, I will ponder this crossroads that I seem to be standing at – yet again!  Somehow, something good will come of all this.  It, too, shall pass. 

And hopefully, a better world for all and a happier life for this young kid will be the result.  

Storage Shelves by GEC

My latest Good Enough Contracting project is a storage shelf that I am making primarily out of scrap lumber.  Left over bits of fencing and some fairly junky 2” x 4”s have been salvaged in order to organize some stuff that is currently piled up in the basement. 

To make the shelves I needed a circular saw, which I introduced in my last post, and the nerve to plug it in and use it.  Well, I managed to get both and now I almost have a complete set of shelves. 

Nearly done!  Good Enough Contracting's built-in storage shelves.

I ran out of 1” x 4” scraps from the fence, so I’ll have to go down to the lumber yard and get some more.  I'm really not looking forward to that.  The local lumber yard, while handy, doesn't offer the best in shopping experiences – in my experience.   But while I'm at it, in an effort to reduce stress by having to go back, I’ll pick up the shelving material I need to build my TV stand. 

I'm also on the hunt for scrap lumber to make a work bench out of for my shop.  I would so like to get that set up and ready for production soon. 

This whole handy-man thing is becoming quite addictive.  I'm getting braver and incrementally more adept.  I'm finding it easier to turn a vision into a reasonable facsimile of the vision and am generally quite happy with the final results.   I think my shelves are pretty awesome, for example.

Anyway, I'm now going to tweak the TV stand design and get measurements so I can buy the material for it. 

Oh, and I must add a shop-vac to my wish list.  I think I'm going to need one of those babies…

The C7BMR With IDI Technology

I’ve been stepping out of my comfort zone more and more lately.  I'm not sure what’s up with that, but I'm rediscovering things about myself that I had thought long-lost and nearly forgotten.  Or… to be really honest… things forced into the deepest, darkest recesses of my being hoping to be forgotten.

I could have about a million regrets.  I could be bitter and angry with myself for having made many of the choices that I did, tucking them all in under the guise of thinking that I had no choice, but I'm really not that invested in hauling out the pity-party decorations for display.  Much more keen on getting to know my circular saw a bit better! (speaking of comfort zones!)

This is my Hitachi C7BMR 7-1/4 15-Amp Circular Saw with Brake and IDI Technology:

Isn’t she lovely?

I have no idea what IDI technology is.  I think it has something to do with the construction of the motor housing that reduces vibrations, which, if not for said IDI technology, could eventually cause the saw to not work so well.  Or something like that. 

My Good Enough Contracting partner/daughter thinks it’s a girly saw.   The swirlies on the blade and the pretty mint colour have had some influence on her opinion.  Stereotyping is what that is!  Sheesh. 

I also have no idea if Hitachi brand power tools are any good.  This one got excellent ratings and it appears to be living up to its Amazon.ca customer review reputation.  Although, I’ve only cut a few boards with it and I really don’t have any direct experience to base a comparison on.  Nevertheless, I’m quite happy with my newest addition to my power tool collection.

Good Enough Contracting is currently in the process of constructing storage shelves in my basement.  The plan is to create a place to put all the stuff that is strewn across the floor of the ex-garage so that the ex-garage can then be converted into a proper little workshop where I can then build other stuff.  I just can’t decide if I want to take out the wall that forms an entryway and re-purpose the shelving that is out there to organize my tools.  (Harry, the ghost, has an affinity for the inside door and I don’t know how offended he would be if I removed it.)  We’ll see how it goes!

Having digressed somewhat from my original train of thought, I shall now continue with what I was leading up to before I wandered off in the wrong direction…

The storage shelves are not, by any means, fancy.  They are being built to serve a purpose and so function over form is where all the energy is being channelled   Also, the scrap lumber I'm using is not exactly conducive to House and Home worthy results. 

Still, that first cut with the Hitachi (so gotta find a name for her!) was exquisite.  It was also kind of crooked.  But what a thrill it was to line up the sights, pull the trigger and guide the saw through the wood.  The smell of the saw dust wafted through the room along with the scream of the blade as it sliced along the pencil line.  It was wonderful. 

I was fifteen years old the last time I used a power tool to cut anything and that was a band saw in shop class.  I enjoyed shop class, but since then I’ve been quite content to let someone else do the cutting part of any project.  And I have to admit that I let myself become used to the notion that saws are beyond my ability to control and use successfully.

Pshaw! 

I dare say that some more practice is called for.  I guess that means that I will have to keep coming up with projects.  Not a problem.  I have a list! 

And now I have one more tool to help me get through that list. 

Next up…  The TV stand.  

There's a Spreadsheet for That!

I am a confirmed and unadulterated procrastinator.  It is easy for me to put things off – sometimes indefinitely.  Often life has to give me a swift kick in the keister before stuff gets accomplished.  Not that I never get stuff done; it’s just that sometimes stuff is done out of grudging necessity rather than in the spirit of desire.  I am also a long-time mistress to whim, whose fickle fascinations easily lead me astray.  One minute I’m on the road to this and the next I’m beating a path back to that.  Self-discipline is not my biggest forte.

When I do get stuff done, I feel great.  Accomplishment buoys my spirit.  I am happy and proud and unfailingly renew my resolve to “keep it up.” 

Then I log into Facebook and those little icons in the sidebar beckon me to click on them.  Three hours later I’m still third in the weekly Angry Birds tournament, but I’m also kicking ass in Zuma Blitz.  I dare say that 100 consecutive gold medals for lobbing coloured balls from a frog’s mouth is not exactly the kind of thing one wants to be remembered for.  And no stuff has got done.

Halloween has just passed.  Halloween, my favourite festive occasion – Ever! – is considered to be the beginning of the Turn of the Wheel (aka a New Year). It is a time to reflect on the past and set goals for the future.  Not unlike the January 1^st New Years, Halloween is the point of new beginnings and fresh starts.

And resolutions. 

I’m a bit loath to call them resolutions.  They are more like updates.  I tend to set the same, broad goals every year:  I will not procrastinate so much, I will not eat so much junk food, I will exercise more, I will write more, I will paint more, I will knit more, I will spend less money on unnecessary stuff…  blah, blah, blah…

More than what?  I suspect that is part of the problem.  Anything more than nothing is at least something and, thus, the goal is complete.    I can still say that I did all these things… just not to my real satisfaction.

So I am composing a new set of goals this year.  Specific.  Detailed.  Realistic.  With time lines. 

What a great excuse to create a spreadsheet!  I love spreadsheets.  They make me happy.  And I rarely procrastinate when one needs making. 

I’m off, then.  I can see the colour-coded matrix of plans and details developing in my mind even as I type (badly as it seems due to the high level of excitement about making a spreadsheet…!) and I dare not wait, lest it slip through the sieve that is my memory.  Or I get distracted by another idea.  Which is far more likely.  

I Felt the Earth Move Under My Feet

Though the sky did not tumble down, my heart did start trembling right along with everything else around me.

Halloween party, October 27^th, 2012 at Alegria.  With me were a few good friends all decked out in their Halloween finest.  Conversation was lively.  The food was good, the drinks were flowing and music was rockin’.

Suddenly, at a few minutes after eight o'clock, so was everything else.

Several thoughts ran through my head.  Something is in my chair.  My chair is about to collapse.    I’m about to go ass over tea kettle when it does.  I'm having an anxiety attack.  Breathe. 

I kept turning and looking in utter disbelief at the chair that seemed, at that moment, to be alive.  Between the very real thought that I should be filming the poltergeist activity I was sitting on and the gripping fear that I was about to have the granddaddy of all anxiety attacks, I was quite paralysed.  Frozen to the spot while I waited for something catastrophic to ensue.

The rocking eventually stopped.  I'm guessing that it lasted no more than half a minute, but it seemed much longer.  When we realized that we had just experienced an earthquake – an extremely rare event in Houston – we all reached for our phones and iPods and the laptop to confirm our diagnosis.  Within seconds Facebook was all a-Twitter with the news.   People started posting links to earthquake sites and we started following them.

A rather large 7.7 magnitude quake hit Masset on Haida Gwaii and was felt all across the north.  People I know as far away as Quesnel felt the shaking and reported their experiences.  Today, aftershocks continue to shake the earth.  Tsunami warnings have been issued and residents in low-lying areas on the islands are being evacuated. 

The large red dot represents the earthquake that happened last night
near Masset on Haida Gwaii.  

I remember as a kid in Chilliwack feeling earthquakes from time to time.  The world would shake for a few seconds and then stop.  It never seemed to me to be a big deal.  Then again, I was a kid and had no real concept of what an earth quake was capable of.  The last time I felt an earthquake was in 1987.  I was sitting on my sofa reading a book when the mobile home I lived in started to shake.  Still holding the book, I automatically got up and walked down the hall thinking that I had to add fabric softener to my washing.  Then I remembered that I wasn't doing laundry.  Again, it took a few seconds for realization to take hold.  Earthquakes are not a common occurrence in Houston, but it was then that I also learned that we are a mere 10 miles away from a fault line that dissects British Columbia diagonally from south-west to north-east through the bottom corner of the Yukon and into Alaska.  Wow!

The reality is that Earth is in constant flux, an ever-changing and dynamic entity that offers the life it sustains no guarantees.  We are all at the mercy of a constantly evolving world that has no concern for our concerns.  Earth does what Earth does, affecting us without malice or spite as its driving force (unlike us?).  Yet we continue to be offended when disaster strikes. 

Last night as I cleaned up my house and prepared for bed, I kept thinking about how precious and precarious life is.  The brief time we have on this planet is so wasted with greed and hate and revenge and fear.  It’s also delightfully peppered with joy and love and kindness.   I felt a whole new appreciation for the blessings in my life as I crawled into my warm bed in my awesome home with my two adorable cats snuggling in next to me.  I thought about my friends and family, my job, my skills…  and I prayed to be a better person than I am; to care for and use these things lovingly, compassionately and kindly.

This morning with the snow so fresh on the ground and the soft sounds of music filling my home, the coffee tastes just a little better, the cats’ fur is just a little softer and my old couch is just a little more comfy than it was yesterday.   And I sit here pondering the wonder of being alive, of experiencing.  I speculate and deliberate once again on what it all means.  The world didn't just shift last night; I did, too.  To where and to what, I'm not yet sure…

It Doesn't Get Better Than That

Every now and then I get this weird sensation of… bigness.  I don’t know how else to describe it. 

It’s like my whole life momentarily inflates and I become acutely aware of the things, the people, the responsibility and the obligation in my life.  In essence, it’s like being in a dream state for a few seconds where everything around me feels both centred and expanded at the same time.   I am overwhelmed by what I do, what I am accountable for and who I am answerable to.  It’s like a thrilling and terrifying dream.  Only I’m awake and it doesn’t last very long.

A part of me asks myself, “What have I done? What was I thinking?  What possessed me to take all this on by myself?  Who the hell do I think I am to buy a house, manage a library, own a car, look after pets, renovate rooms, landscape a yard, buy power tools and build shit…?”

Then a little voice answers back, “Who are you not to?”

And the bigness isn’t so big anymore. 

I find myself able to breathe again and I see how absolutely wonderful my life is – with renewed appreciation!  The happiness and contentment I normally feel returns and my only wish is that my bank account would overwhelm me with bigness someday.  It will.

Yesterday, my staff and I met for our once-monthly get-together away from the distractions of regular library life to talk about issues, brainstorm new ideas and generally spend an hour and a half bonding as the team we are.  As I was about to start talking about the first item on our agenda, one of the girls approached me with a card and a gift.  I had no idea what they could be for or why I would be getting them.

I looked at my grinning assistants and was struck by the happiness and pleasure that I saw on their faces.  Even before I opened the card, I was touched by the gesture.  I still had no idea what it was all about.

The card was in honour of Boss’s Day, which was actually held on October 16^th.  I happened not to be in the library that day, so the staff decided that the staff meeting would be the perfect substitute. 

The moment of realization was mixed with pride and humble pleasure to be recognized this way by these amazing women, who, quite frankly, make my job so much easier than it could be.  They are the front line workers who deal with the patrons, solve so many problems, ensure that the day-to-day stuff is kept up with, look after programs and displays, keep the library looking neat and tidy among myriad other things that come up quite out of the blue.  All I could think was:  I should be honouring you guys! 

If I do make the world a better place, it's because of the
wonderful people in my life that help me do it.  

And then the bigness happened.  But this time it was not so much overwhelming as it was comforting.  It was affirming.  I knew then, with absolute certainty, that I am in the right place and that everything really is okay. 

The card now sits in pride of place on my book shelf at home.  A reminder that, as big as life can seem sometimes, I am quite capable of handling it. 

I just hope that my wonderful, incredible, talented, creative, amazing staff know how much I have learned from them; how much better they make my life and how great an honour it is to work with each of them. 

So what was the gift that went with the card, you ask?

Triple chocolate cheesecake!  

Busy, Busy, Busy

Busy, busy, busy!  That’s my life lately.  It’s been hair straight back for the past couple of months and there’s no end in sight. 

With the fabulous weather we've been having, I should be making more progress on the yard.  Alas, that isn't happening.  I have moved onto – or rather, back to – the spare bedroom.  I am determined to get it done before Yule. 

But home improvement projects are not the only things on my plate.  Work is keeping me hopping, too.  Cross training my assistant is a huge priority.  Then there are the policy and procedure manual updates that are long overdue.  I've developed a needs assessment survey for our patrons so we can further develop a proper strategic work plan and getting that rolled out has taken far longer than it should have. 

I'm not complaining!  It’s great to have plans and projects to focus on.  But it does cut into my knitting and writing time considerably and I sometimes wish I had a clone who could take over now and then so that I could do ALL the things that I want to do as well as the stuff that I have to do. 

Prioritizing is easy.  Unfortunately, it’s highly subjective in the moment and prone to falling prey to my fickle desires.  Sitting at my desk at work, it’s one thing to say this comes before that.  At home, though, primacy is assigned with arbitrary whim in the dominant position.  My saving grace is that once I get started, I tend to see it through.  Mostly.  The real threat to any project is another idea popping into my head, exciting me and challenging me to find a way to make it happen.

My desk is now littered with schematics for a writing desk, a shelving project for the spare room, storage shelves in the basement and shed, a work bench, coffee and end tables, a TV stand and a bed frame.  What I lack is both time and tools to make it all happen.   Oh, and money!  Money can be a factor in where any particular project falls on the priority list.  But it will come when it is needed and so I don’t concern myself with that all too much.

I was a bit bummed out yesterday, though.  After saving up for a new mitre saw, I decided to order it only to discover that it is sold out.  Crap.  So a new circular saw it will be instead.  Bosch.  Construction site blue.  Great ratings.  (But it isn't the pretty green Hitachi 10” mitre saw I've had my heart set on.  Sigh…)  I guess the mitre saw will have to wait a bit. 

So, today, as I sit here with coffee in hand, the plan looks something like this:

• ·         Second coat of paint on my coffee table legs
• ·         Sand and prime the walls in the spare room
• ·         Rake and mulch leaves. 
• ·         Pick up apples
• ·         Laundry
• ·         Clean house
• ·         Water plants
• ·         Bake cookies for the awesome guys at KalTire, who changed my tires over for free!  Again! 
• ·         Make soup

Will it all happen?

Not as long as I'm sitting here in my PJs with the Angry Birds theme music rolling around in my head and beckoning me to try to beat my kid in this week’s tournament, knowing that I won’t, because she is just an Angry Birds wizard.  And I'm so not! 

Okay, this is it.  Time to start knocking things off the old to-do list. 

(Maybe just one more attempt to take the gold crown in Angry Birds…)