Say What?

We've kept two kennels set up in our home to use for Charlie when we're away for extended periods but no more. I brought them out to the garage last night to store them as Charlie has graduated to full house privileges.  Something finally clicked with the potty training for him a few weeks ago and he gets it. Believe it or not, it actually took me a few months to fully warm up to this little guy.  I'm sure it was because I felt I was slighting Toby and Allie by doing so but he's really won me over; how could he not?  He's a sweetheart but he's also a scrapper.  When Toby gets tough with him as he still does occasionally, Charlie gives it right back.  But for the other 23 hours and 59 minutes out of the day, they're fine. His big thing lately is to carry his food bowl around and play with it. He's often at my side with a ball or stuffed animal in his mouth tempting me to try and get it from him...typical puppy stuff.  He also likes to bite the palm of...

I've been struggling to see things as I should at work for longer than I care to admit and no, I'm not inferring that I'm now agreeing with FAA management. I'm talking about my vision. When I was 43 my vision began to suffer the effects of Presbyopia to the point that I could no longer read a newspaper without holding it at a ridiculous length; something longer than my arms would allow for. I got my first pair of progressive lenses/glasses soon after. Previous generations called them bifocals. Mine were actually trifocals with no lines to distinguish the varying strengths. Over the years I've had my prescription strengthened a number of times and I could tell I was due again, or in this case, overdue. Being an instructor at work requires me to position myself several feet from the radar scope (behind my trainee) where, depending on the size of the data-tags (their size varies with a controller's preference), it can require extra effort on my part to see them ...

I've been accused of neglecting my blog and I suppose there's some truth in that. It hasn't been for a lack of things to write about or lack of interest but rather, a lack of time.  I get a bit of an anxious feeling when I haven't written in several days. Maybe it's a form of withdrawal. Sometimes a blog piece flows out of me and pretty much writes itself. Other times it's not so easy; especially those times when I'm conflicted about an issue. Such was the case last year in my posts leading up to the election. I searched my soul a lot during that time as I was contemplating the presidential election and my decision to vote for Obama. Speaking of that decision; do I have any regrets about it? No. I've learned not to put my faith in politicians just as I learned long ago never to bet on the Vikings in a must-win situation. Am I disappointed with Obama and the decisions he's making? Yes, a little. But, unlike so many on the right, I'm willing to...

I was finally able to get our website moved over to the new host service at GoDaddy.  I think I'll take a pass on resellers for webspace in the future.  The only casualty in the move was my other blog detailing our basement remodeling project from five years ago.  I forgot that I'd used my website to host the data and it was lost when the switchover occurred.  Fortunately, I was able to resurrect it with archived data on Blogger.  It lives on . It was ranking highly on searches for basement makeovers so I'd like to leave it out there. Last weekend was Homecoming for Rachel's high school, Lakeville North.  It's a time for her to use her artistic talents as she decorates her Homecoming pants.  I've no doubt she has at least 30 hours of work into these and it shows with all the detail.  I'll never forget years ago after she finished her pants and put them on to model them for me.  I got to looking at them and down the back of her legs she'd ...

For the past two weeks, I've been trying to politely work with my web-host provider but all of my niceness has gotten me nowhere. The support tickets I've submitted to move the transfer along have been ignored. They've got me over a barrel in that the 'who is' contact information is listed as them rather than me. I never noticed this until now and it may seem like a small detail but when transferring a domain it's vital that the information is that of the domain owner for the process to go through. They're the only ones who can correct it. The web-host service is Myacen located in Perth, Australia and they're a reseller for a larger company called Enom located in the US. My frustration led me to contact Enom to see if there was any pressure they could bring to bear on Myacen to get them to work with me. It may be working. I'm not out of the woods yet but it appears the prairie grass is coming into view. Enom has the ability to make the necessary ch...

This is a continuation of a series of posts I've been adding to about my early years, post-high school and entering the Navy. The first of those entries can be found here . The most recent is here . Shipboard life in port in San Diego was probably as good a duty as I could've hoped for. I was the junior sailor in our division for my first several months on board which meant that I was the go-to guy for whatever working parties there may have been. A working party is where each division sends one man (the junior guy) to help out with whatever grunt work needs to be done. It's typically an hour or two detail but sometimes it can be one which lasts for days. One of the first times I was assign ed to a detail, I was part of a painting crew. We spraypainted several compartments throughout the ship and I'm quite certain we took very few precautions to protect ourselves from paint fumes. They gave us surgical masks which were pretty much useless. It was miserable duty that...

This is a continuation of a series of posts written about my time spent in the Navy in the mid to late 1970s. The most recent of those writings can be found here while the initial entry in this series is here . We got back from our WestPac (Western Pacific) cruise in the Fall of 1976. It had been a busy year for me, especially considering that one year earlier, joining the Navy was not on my radar while working dead-end jobs was. For the most part, we'd spend the next 21 months in port in San Diego and in that time I'd fall in love with my home away from home; not the ship but the city. I didn't own a car or even a bike so I walked almost everywhere and would catch buses along the way. I did my share of hitchhiking as well but eventually, I'd stop thumbing for rides after having had too many encounters that left me questioning that cheap form of transportation. To quote a line from a favorite TV show from years ago; "No thanks, Chuck, I'll remain on my own...