Here we are again...

...the night before my birthday.  Forty-three is knocking on the door and I can't wait.  Of course last year will be a hard act to follow... a beautiful wedding, a new job, and after copious amounts of turmeric and prayers, my family is pretty much cancer free...   That's a good year.  Look it up.

But what about this coming year?  All I can say is that from where I'm sitting, life is pretty incredible and I'm a lucky man.

But forty-three...???  I'm finally developing my credo for life... and like life it will be a work in progress. It will gradually be presented over the course of this year... and to get it down in cyber-ink, I'm going to post to this blog everyday... starting today.  For at least a year.  Now this is no Julia and Julia thing... this is just me writing everyday.  For me.  And for you... the reader... whoever you are.  I'll be posting some thoughts of food and health.... recipes... nutritional thoughts and ideas... I'll tell some stories when appropriate, and more than likely when not appropriate too.  Who knows, but I hope it will be entertaining and maybe even useful on occassion.

So here's a start for the big 4-3...

-a moleskine notebook, a box of Blackwing Palomino pencils, and a little imagination will beat an iPad anyday.
-a glass of red wine everyday is good for you.  I'm going to try to do that everyday too.
-Parmigiano-reggiano, the real stuff, is worth every dime they charge for it.
-Le Creuset is worth every dime you pay for it too... ESPECIALLY if your brother paid all those dimes last year for your birthday.  Thanks Ben.  Still using it.  Still loving it!
-Dogs, no matter how wonderful they are, don't live forever.  Love them everyday.  The same goes for people.
-Jingle Jammies from Old Navy just might be dollar for dollar the most Christmas Joy you can fit under the tree.  At least they might be for Cami.
-My mom rocks.  When she found out that Cami's Christmas stocking was from CVS, she made a new one for her that matches the one she made for me 43 years ago.  Like I said, she rocks.
-Cooking your own food is cheaper and better for you.
-two glasses of red wine a day sometimes is a good thing too.
-I'm the luckiest man-man-man-on the face-face-face-of the earth-earth-earth.

-Dom Perignon and Doritos Pizza from Pat's compliment each other perfectly.

Enough.  40 minutes to go.

It's gonna be a terrific year...!!

chicago

Pretty amazing town....

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Laguardia....

Nothing like travel to build your appreciation for home. And nothing like travel, again, to make you feel a granola bar is a healthy lunch. It certainly is more affordable than the options presented at the many kiosks here. I saw a turkey sandwich for $8.99 in a cooler. Granted it looked pretty fresh... especially next to my Kashi bar.... but the Kashi bar, packed by my lovely wife, won. Kind of feel as though I won too.

In any case I am en route to Chicago to spend a month recruiting studnets for U Maine. I love this job, but I hate being away from Cami for a night, let alone all of October. But every job has its ups and downas and every career has dues you just need to pay. I'm paying my dues... and hopefully helping out some kids. And I know I am helping out the granola bar industry....! In the meantime I'm waiting for my flight... and missing home, maybe more than a little.

Be good, people... and be good people....

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testing on the travel blogging front....

Soon I will be on the road.... let's see how the blogging works with the Droid. So far, so good.... but it will be a long month in Chicago. Will miss Cami and Mucho terribly...but we all know (well maybe Mucho doesn't) that this is a great job... and Chicago, that toddlin' town, is a fine city. Here's to the bright side!

Details to follow.... will have plenty of time.

Be good people.

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An overdue letter....

Dear Lloyd,

This letter is long overdue, and in fact you don't even know me.  But given that we're on the verge of some big happenings that have a whole lot to do with your kin, I figure I should introduce myself.  My name is Sam and in a couple days I am going to marry your granddaughter.  Now I know you never got to meet her, and honestly that's a damn shame.  She would make you proud with almost everything she has done and everything she stands for which is a lot.  She is beautiful and loving and makes the world a better place... and she makes me a better man.  She can be a lot sometimes, which probably doesn't surprise you, but it is a wonderful thing.  She never does anything half-way, especially when it comes to loving.  She loves kids (she's a teacher after all), she loves making a difference, she loves animals (especially our dog), she loves her family, and she loves me... and I can be a lot sometimes.

Lloyd, I'll take care of her.  Not that she needs anyone to take care of her...  Good Lord!!  She's got Bebe's genes, and some of yours and a few other strands that are woven into the fabric of her character.  But I'll be there and I'll love her.

We're getting married out at camp... your camp...  the one you named Mi Camp, so everyone felt at home.  We do feel at home and come Saturday, so will about a hundred and ten of our closest friends and family.  It's all cleaned up and painted (still red... but the yellow just had to go).  I even cleaned out your fire-pit/grill... ship shape and soon I'll be baking pizzas in it.  But not this weekend.  This weekend is focused on another celebration.  Indeed this is a celebration... and you will be remembered, as will Cami's other grandparents, and my dad, and all those who have passed on too soon.  I like to think that you are all gathered together somewhere, watching from afar, sending us your love and blessings.  That would be cool.

But the business of this upcoming celebration is upon us and there is much to be done.  But I just needed to write this out... to thank you for Mi Camp... and thank you for Cami.

I'm a lucky, lucky man.   But I bet you already knew that.

~Sam

Perspective... and an overdue recipe.

So this morning was another Big Bear to Little Bear morning.  Up at 5:00 (5:12 really) and to the gym by 5:30 (5:32 really).  And although I freely admit that I am not a real morning person (sorry team!), I was feeling pretty good.  I just got back from a quick weekend in Vermont where I got to hang out with my brother and a few great, old friends... played three long rounds of disc golf, had a healthy dinner in Burlington, and only had three beers the entire weekend.  Why is this such a feat...??  Well, this was my "bachelor's party."  Pretty wild and crazy... I know.  But hey, I'm 42, remember...?  I digress.  So this morning I am feeling that what could have been a disastrous bender was actually a healthy, tame, and pretty danged wonderful weekend.

Is this what it's like to get old...?

So the gym was a solid mix of cardio and weights this morning and I felt good, healthy, like I was really starting to be fit and in control.   After cleaning up I head out for work, making the usual stop for coffee at The Store.  Walking in, I noticed a bicycle in the foyer.  It was bright red with these mean looking aerobars sticking off the front handle-bars... some carbon-frame triathlete bike designed by NASA.  Clearly the most intimidating 3 pounds of technology I've ever seen.

It was easy to figure out who it belonged to given that my choices were the store owner, Roberta, myself, or this 6'3" guy dressed in Pearl Izumi and wearing a bike helmet.  Quite the Colombo, I know.  At most he had two, maybe three percent body fat.  He looked like some former Marine, or a Navy Seal, or an Airborne Ranger or some other guy that could kill a man by simply squinting hard.  He and Roberta were chatting away about when he was a student at UMaine some 15 plus years ago... how he likes to keep coming back up here for training and such...  His next triathlon was the end of August in North Carolina.  I had the distinct feeling that he was cycling all the way down to it this afternoon.  Feeling the urge to contribute to the conversation, I confidently announce "I know this may be difficult to believe, but I am actually NOT a triathlete," ...but I was at the gym this morning I think to myself.  We all laughed, and he paid for his coffee and cookie and headed out for another 300 or so miles.

I turned back to the coffee air-pots, filled my cup, and took a long look at the muffins in the glass case. I pulled out my notebook and scribbled down a note to myself.  "Clean up bike... AND RIDE IT!!!"

We'll see where that leads me.... but in the meantime, and while we are speaking of muffins.... here is a LONG overdue recipe for bran muffins (from The Essential Vegetarian Cookbook by Diana Shaw).  And get this... 168 calories per muffin!!


Pre-heat oven to 500-degrees


1 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 & 1/2 cup wheat bran
2 large egg whites
1 cup non-fat yogurt (plain) or buttermilk
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup molasses

Mix your dry ingredients in one bowl (a whisk works well with the bran) and your wet ingredients (thoroughly beat them)  in a separate bowl.  Add dry to wet and mix just to moisten.  Fill greased 6-cup muffin tin (Use an organic baking spray like Spectrum). IMPORTANT reduce heat to 400-degrees before putting them in the oven.  Test with a toothpick after 30 minutes or so... and let the pans cool for about ten minutes before popping the muffins out.  Then let them cool completely.

NOTE - These muffins are pretty indestructible.  I have baked them where the oven shut off shortly through and they still finished baking.  I have baked them and forgotten to turn the temp down.  They were burnt on the edges after 13 minutes but baked thoroughly and still pretty tasty.  Wouldn't necessarily call them fool proof, but they're pretty close.  Enjoy!!

Morning rituals.... and flamingos.

Another early morning gym day under the belt, so to speak.  These mornings are becoming some of my favorite mornings of all time.  This shocks me too.  When I get to the gym at 5:30, honestly I am not awake.  Not by a long shot.  Of course when I drag myself IN the front door, I usually meet my neighbor coming OUT of the gym.  He's way too chipper.  Part of his charm.  I'm a little cranky.  Part of my charm.  But after an hour of training, sweating, and general bigbeartolittlebear-ing it... I'm awake... and feel great... and, dare I say it, I'm chipper.

But my favorite part of the morning is next to come.  I go home.  It's 6:30.  I pull into the driveway and just look at the house.  Our house.  Our home.  Beautiful fiance (now on her incredibly well earned summer break from teaching) is most likely still asleep.  So is Wonder Dog (whose entire life is a break).  It's a cool morning compared to the heat-wave of earlier this week.  My little ritual commences.   I walk around the house, inspecting the gardens.  Now that sounds impressive, "The Gardens", however it only consists of a couple small raised beds on the side of the house and a few containers out back.  First I water the beds.  Zucchini is starting to form it's first fruit of the year.  Lots of promising tomatoes, although I added a couple Cherokee Purple plants late. I think they'll be just fine.  Of course the hose leaks and I end up spraying myself about as much as the plants, but after the gym it's nice.  Kale is almost there and our two rows of lettuce is once again in need of a "harvest." Salad for dinner.  It's quiet except for a few birds and the BAT bus rumbling down College Ave.

Around back I use the watering can that used to belong to my mom.  There are a few planters and a couple whiskey barrels with mostly tomatoes, basil, and cilantro doing quite well. However, I am rather proud of my green beans that are climbing three long poles/saplings that fashion a rough 9-foot high tripod. No beans yet, but no giant scrambling down them either. All is good.

And I talk to the plants as I water them... a little pep talk of sorts.  Pretty sure it doesn't do much for the plants, but it makes me feel better.  I talk to the pink flamingos too, which Cami rolled her eyes at and reluctantly gave me permission to put them out.... in the back yard.... close to the house.... out of public sight.  They're a wonderful bit of whimsy in a world that is too damn full of itself.  Haven't named them yet and I am open to suggestions.  Checking my watch, it's after 7:00. I need to hustle inside and get ready for the day.... which seems strange given my day is already well under way.

The shirts are right..... life really is good.

...and we're back!!

Okay, so every now and then we need a nudge to get back on track.  So it was with my fitness and diet stuff.... and so it is with this blog.  As far as the blog goes, the nudge came from the petite but mighty Ang of Astoria.  Who is this Ang...?? She is one of Cami's best friends of all time and I would take a bullet for her.  Seriously.  Granted I hope I never need to, for the sake of both of us.  But I would.  And we will be seeing the petite but mighty Ang and her fab hubby unit at our wedding which is precisely one month away from tomorrow.  On that note, allow me to say.... holy crap.  (It's going to be AMAZING)

But on to the fitness nudge.  Now this is not a new battle for me... nor is it for about 72% of the American public... and I know what I need to do.... as does about 71% of the American public.... but alas, here we are, so many of us.... needing a nudge.  My nudge came from an old friend who is with me in that 72%.  He nudged me into re-joining the "Big Bear to Little Bear Challenge" at the U Maine Rec Center.  It's exactly what it sounds like... a quasi "Biggest Loser" except we don't live there and we only get to meet with our team trainer twice a week... and he's not a raging psycho-bitch.  So every Monday and Wednesday, a small but dedicated group of BB2LBers wake early and head to the gym by 5:30.  There are four of us on our team and we all have different fitness goals... it's a personal journey after all... but we are a team.  We look out for each other.  It's what teams do.  We face challenge after challenge and we cheer each other on through push-ups and mile sprints and steam engines and weigh-ins.  And it works.  And sometimes we end up helping each other out in other ways.  My team-mate... the nudger... called me tonight.

"I'm on Hogan Road... talk me past McDonald's" said the semi-panicked voice. "I'm going to my class and need to eat something.... what should I do??" 

I had been there before... driving past the same McDonald's... the same creepy voice beckoning me to come in to check out the new dollar menu.  I hate that voice.

"Go to Hannafords... the deli... aske for 3 ounces of sliced turkey and get some flax seed pitas... make a sandwich...  less than 150 calories and you are GOLDEN!!"

Crisis averted.  I imagine it like an air-strike being called in over some axis of nutritional evil.  Operation Hamburglar Shut-down.

And so it goes... it 's almost 10:30 and I will be in the gym in seven hours.  With the team.  Good week or bad week, we'll all be there for each other.  Ready with a nudge.

And when weddings come around, perhaps say in August, our friends will be there.  Actually they always are.  Especially when we need a nudge.

Thanks Ang...!

Friends and Family.... and Fridays.

 Bread, wine, cheese, friends, laughter.... It was a Friday night ritual that developed gradually and ended suddenly as we moved to Maine.  But almost three years later, on a Friday, my dear old baking friend rekindled the memories of that ritual.  In my in-box I found.....

"COMMUNION: It rarely fails that Friday rolls around and I am compelled to bake a couple of loaves of bread. In a few minutes I will head north, to Shelburne, for some of our favorite cheese and a bottle of Mrs. Fox's latest beverage of choice, a Reisling called "Relax." I'll turn south, pick up the young folk and continue on to piano group lessons, after which we'll come home for communion. The tradition begun when you and Cami were here to share continues. Though it's lonely without you. It's nice to believe that one is irreplacable, but you truly are! There's nobody left who we would want to commune with on a Friday evening. Come summer it's not so bad, since PdV is open. Still, a winter Friday is here and you aren't. I hope you're having fun, this Friday."

Wet-eyed, I wrote back....

"Dear Jeffrey...  Thank you. Every now and then in life we catch a signal from far away.... reminds me of when I was a kid listening to my first AM radio under the covers of my bed way too late at night.... the WNYC oldies show "The Milkman's Matinee" and every now and then Kansas City... I would imagine myself some young, hip kid in Manhattan.... a Holden Caulfield of sorts (RIP J.D.) .... Tonight I got home, did the floors and started laundry before Cami got home.... I am about to go meet her at the grocery store but first stopped to check facebook.... and here you are, WNYC at night all over again.... A signal from a wonderful time... that we will visit again I might add!! Cheers to you and to the family and to bread and wine and to friends, near and far. You add all that together and indeed, you get communion.

We miss you, especially on Friday nights.

Blessings all the way around...!"

Bread.  The staff of life.  And when we share it... the proverbial breaking of bread... we become closer.  We become family.

Blessings to you all.

The healing power of... Cupcakes?

We are leaving early tomorrow for a little road trip. Cam is upstairs packing.  Mucho is once again sacked out in front of the fireplace with his Kong.... his second favorite toy.  He lobotomized Mr. Octopus last week and I haven't had time to stich the poor bastard up.

We are visiting Mom.  Not really for any reason other than it has been too long, she hasn't seen Julie & Julia yet, and I owe her cupcakes.  What the hell.  So tomorrow we will load up the car, give Mucho the whole back seat (and a good potion of the front), and drive to Wells River, VT.  Honestly I am not sure when the last time we visited Mom at her home.  I'm sure she knows.  Moms keep pretty good track of that kind of thing.  Of course there are loads of things we could be doing other than running to Vermont.  We have lots of money to raise for the youth group's upcoming trip to New Orleans.  We have our wedding to plan.  I have homework to read and Cam has homework to grade.  But there are times when we need to walk (or drive in this case) away from it all and just take, well, a pause.  It will be there when we get back.  We all have things and times in our lives where doing what seems like nothing is actually the most important thing to do.

But spending time with your mom is not nothing.  It is damn important stuff.  To watch movies, and talk, drink some wine, swap stories, and watch Cami share how much she loves teaching, loves her students, and how much they love her... it's like capturing our crazy & wonderful life in a picnic basket and delivering it in person to my unsuspecting mother.  Look out Mom.  (I mentioned that we're bringing Mucho too, right??)

Now if you will excuse me, I need to bake some cupcakes.

Perspective

I started a new class Tuesday.  Developmental Theories of Counseling.  Seems to be a great course that will delve into the stages we all eventually pass through.  And I've already learned a great lesson.... Nate, the instructor made it all clear for me. "There is no one way to counsel," he said.  "But you do have a responsibility to have an opinion."  By learning about theories, and issues, and substance, and about being human, and by examining our own lives and everything else... we will form our own personal opinions... and those opinions will enable us to counsel.  In addition to the usual massively dry textbook, we are also assigned to read The Glass Castle, The Secret Life of Bees, and Tuesdays With Morrie.  I own copies of all the titles, but have never managed to read them.  After class Tuesday, I jumped right into Tuesdays... The story of a writer reconnecting with his old college professor as he navigates the last stages of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease.  It's a book about death, and life, and the integral beauty each possess.

Today I received an e-mail from mom.  After over a year in remission, her cancer is back.  They will be starting a new treatment plan soon... chemo and a new, somewhat "experimental" injection that has had some positive results.  Okay then.

Now by connecting Tuesday's With Morrie and my mother's cancer, I am by no means assuming the worse.  I am simply acknowledging that life is full of lessons... and it is intended to be lived.  Morrie never missed an opportunity to dance, and from here on, neither will I.  And Mom, I guess this is fair warning.... you'd better dust off your dancing shoes.

The Mothership

(Originally posted on my other, now defunct blog, December 1, 2009 - SGK)

There are many ways we can take this title being a few days after Thanksgiving and my mother (and brother + family) have been gone for only a few days. But I am actually writing about the Kitchenaid Professional 600 that as of 5:23 pm EST has resided on our kitchen counter. It is a big friggin’ mixer and I love it. It is a gift of love…. love as in I love two things… my fiance, Cami, and cooking (three if you include our dog, Mucho…. four if you include the rest of my family… five if… never mind) … back to my point, I love her, she loves me, birthday is coming up along with Christmas and said Kitchenaid is now on said counter. It stands 16 and a half inches tall which gives it about an inch of extra clearance under our cabinets. I have done nothing with it tonight other than unpack it, lovingly wash the bowl and attachments, and post a picture of it on Facebook… Quite possibly the dorkiest moment of my life. So there you have it… a rare moment of decadence in our typically sedate and non-materialistic lifestyle. That said, please stay tuned for a flat screen television that I sense on the horizon… and lots of cooking adventures.

Back to Thanksgiving. Holidays bring the family together and that can be an adventure. This year my brother and his wife and kids came up to Maine with my Vermont residing mother in tow. It’s easy to say that we don’t get together nearly enough, but given our paths and schedules, it’s amazing that we see each other as often as we do. This Thanksgiving was a merging of two families as we literally went over the river and through the woods to my future in-laws… lots of people together having made it through a variety of challenges over the last year or two. Health struggles, lost loved ones, life decisions, and that litany of perennial questions…. What do you feed a vegetarian on Thanksgiving…? Red or white wine…? Do I drink one, two, or three bottles…? I know, I know politically explosive material here…. But the safe answer to at least question number one is polenta dome. I may post the recipe later (with the solid advice to drop the fennel and add more salt and cheese)… so keep your fingers crossed. But once again, back to Thanksgiving… Families, friends, and the other wonderful people we love for whatever reason and in whatever capacity can drive us crazy… if we let them. But love them we do, and love them we will continue to do. One of my favorite quotes from Storypeople is “There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other’s cooking & say it was good.” To me that says Thanksgiving. To me that says family.

Forgive the shmaltz, but the holidays are coming. Until then, let’s give the mothership on my counter a test run. And I will keep trying to figure out what the hell this blog is all about.

Stay tuned….

Mickey-D's and the future of our youth......

(Originally posted on my other, now defunct blog... December 16, 2009 - SGK)

I am waiting in another McDonald’s for a student to apply. The last time was well over a year ago in Bucksport and the kid never showed. Was pretty frustrated, for several reasons. First, I hate McDonald’s. Granted it started off as an American success story…. it has gone on to literally eat away at any semblance of true culture…. and we’re fat now. Today I am sitting in Old Town, Maine and once again waiting for a student….25 minutes late at this point. Called Dad, doesn’t know where the kid is. Thinks he might be on his way. Okay then… Now the last several years have brought a new face to the Golden Arches…. they don’t look like the overly bright and plastic stores of yore. Instead of the blinding primary color schemes, everything is a dark mahogany and faux leather that practically screams “Screw You Starbucks…!!” There’s a very interesting couple two tables to my right who keep switching their attention to the Bangor Daily News and to Regis and Kelly coming from the wall mounted flat screen. The man snorts loudly at the panties Kelly is holding up, “Twenty eight bucks for a piece of LACE!??! Ridiculous! Wish she’d shut up and put ‘em on…” Nice, Luther. I never heard this in a Starbucks.

31 minutes late.

And so we wait…. waiting to help a young man try to build “employability skills” and maybe even a future. That’s how we bill it anyway. To the kids it may just be a safe place to sleep and three square meals a day. Maybe that’s enough for them right now. There is a shortsightedness among a disturbingly large amount of our students. They live for today and don’t really think of or prepare for the future. Much like the customers of McDonald’s who don’t really think about what this “meal” today will do to their health down the road if they keep coming back. What it has done to the culture of community all over this country. All over the world. Just like Wal-Mart and the other convenient box stores that have helped roll up Main Street sidewalk after Main Street sidewalk of Smalltown, USA.

41 minutes...

Maybe we are all a little late… time to stop selling ourselves and our community short. Am I happy about waiting for this kid…? No. But I’m not giving up on him. What good would that do? As far as McDonald’s goes…. I’m 0 for 2 here. I guess I should give up on McDonald’s.

Off to my next adventure….

Simple generosity... and a bucket of beans.

The youth group is at it again.  We have been working since this past fall trying to raise just over $10,000.  This money will  be spent taking a group of 17 high school students to New Orleans.  We will be volunteering with the St. Bernard Project, an incredible non-profit that has been going strong since early 2006.  They rebuild houses, homes really, that were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.  Now we've all heard of that.  But the St. Bernard Parish has been able to do what FEMA and the Federal Government has not.  In addition to rebuilding homes with nothing more than volunteer help and donations, they give people hope.  Hope, when times are tough, is a powerful tool.  Actually it always is a powerful tool.

Two years ago, I went down to NOLA with my fiance and her family.  Turns out one of her old classmates works for St. Bernard Project.  Well there we were, all volunteering, mudding sheet-rock and sanding it down.  Messy, sweaty, just plain nasty work that was absolutely delicious for the soul.  And we were bitten by the bug.  We knew we were going back.

Last year we formed the youth group and took eleven kids down.  It clearly changed all of our lives.  And as these things tend to do.... the group grew.  This year we had to limit the group to 17 students (plus chaperones... don't freak out)... funding.  A reasonable concern during a recession.  But the kids are stepping up... and so are their parents... and so is this incredible community.  We are a community service focused youth group, but attached to the Church of Universal Fellowship in Orono, ME.  These church members step up every chance they get... which is fairly often these days.  They have been subjected to numerous bake sales, a pizza sale, soon a Mardi Gras Extravaganza (I'm not exactly sure what that entails either), car washes, and flat-out appeals for donations.  And they never disappoint.

Today was bake sale #2 for this year.  The kids showed up with a wonderful variety of baked goods.... many out of the normal range of "bake sale" goods.  We had chicken lasagna (three of them.... each went for $17-20),  quiches (2 of them), pizzas (4), and perhaps my personal favorite.... five quart containers of "Calico Beans."  Yes.  I bought one of them.  Best damn ten bucks I've spent in the last three months.  The kids baked and sold. The parents baked and bought.  The church members milled about like it was a festival.... and in many ways, it was indeed a celebration.  These kids are perhaps renewing faith in the spirit of generosity, of giving, and perhaps of compassion.  And it is contagious.  People want to see them succeed in their collective mission.  They give to the kids in ways the kids may never see.  I was sitting in the back pew of church today before the service, catching up with an old friend, when I felt friendly pat on my shoulder and a piece of paper slid into my hand.  It was a check... and it came from a man who has already donated to us.... and has bought pizzas and cookies, and had his car washed.  With it was a note.  In a spidery scrawl, "Here's another donation.  Keep up the good work."  After the service, as we scooted out to man the bake sale, another friend passed me and slipped something into my coat pocket.  "Don't lose you coat now, Sam," he said.  It was another very generous check.

During the sale, there was a moment where I stepped back and just watched.  I watched the interactions and conversations.  It is hard to explain what exactly was happening.  But there was much more going on than the sale of cookies and cupcakes... and there is much more going on here than the rebuilding of houses in New Orleans.  There is a rekindling of the human spirit.  Now I know that sounds like complete bullshit, but it is true.  And I am finally realizing that this is why I am involved with this youth group. 

It's cold outside tonight.  They're saying single digits.  We have the fire going and the dog is sprawled in front of it in customary fashion.   And for dinner I had a salad and a small bowl of "Calico Beans" all heated up... delicious... and they, along with the memory of the day, warmed me through to my soul.