One of the weirdest things happened at our house last time that my parents came to visit. Andrea your little comment reminded me that I probably out to share another sad part of what I see of growing older. As I was thinking about your comment I thought that probably my parents were to proud to listen to the tv at a very loud and uncomfortable volume. Then I thought, as anyone who knows them, they have always listened at an uncomfortably loud level.
We recently bought a surround sound for the living room and both mom and dad were up for a few days and after the kids go to be we sometimes have a movie or two to watch while we relax in the evening. I thought that they might just not know which setting on the surround sound to set while watching movies. But they did the weirdest thing, they wouldn't start the movie without subtitles, in English. They said it is to loud we can not hear what they are saying. My parents have reverted to reading entire movies instead of listening to them. I thought that it was an anomaly with the surround sound until a few weeks later we were in St. George and they were doing the same thing there. I always viewed movies as a tool for relaxation, reading the entire movie is no form of relaxation but rather 1 1/2 to 2 hours of mind draining reading.
I don't know if I am the only one but I can't concentrate on the action of the movie I always end up reading the entire subtitle if they are on. I pretty much miss the whole movie and just end up reading it.
Hope that this does not sound mean but I will not rent movies if I know that my parents are coming because I don't and almost will not subject myself to 2 hours of reading when what I am looking for is that escape from where reality where I don't have to do any work and almost fall completely unconscious.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Sad Realization
It has been a few days since my last blog. It isn't that I haven't wanted to just haven't been able to find the time. I don't really believe that everyone has the same amount of hours in their day, 24 just doesn't seem like enough.
We have been working hard at the plant and seems like every night we have had occupied with something or other at the apartments. So time for blogging has been put on the back burner until I can squeeze in that extra few minutes a night to actually sit down without passing out. The sad realization that I have come to is that old age sucks. I don't try and claim old age yet, I am seeing it and feeling it first hand through my poor father. I love the guy a ton, probably don't have a better friend in the whole world then him. Love and adore he really is a great guy for those that don't know him, and for those that do know him you know what I am talking about. He has this aura of being very rough and tough around the edges but really is a loving and caring dude.
He is getting older and it is a pretty sad thing. The way that I see it is only slightly but affecting him considerably. We have been tiling a floor for the last couple of days. He has had to do all of the laying of the tile while I have the "cush" job of measuring cuts and then cutting the tiles. I couldn't figure out why he always wants to take the harder of the two man job but then I started to realize the other day that without his glasses (that he can never find) he can't see the tape measure. So because of his bad sight he just has to do the job the requires not a lot of use from the eyes. So he is getting more worn out because of this fact, but we were able to finish a 200 sq. foot area in two days. We allow the tile glue to dry for at least 24 hours before going to the next and final step of the process, grouting the tile. This is the step that led me to realize that old age sucks and that he is getting older.
The tile looked perfectly laid and was going to turn out awesome when we started grouting this afternoon. Everything was going smoothly I was down on my hands and knees this time grouting the whole floor, really everything was going very smoothly and was actually turning out to be a very fast and well liked stop to the tiling process. Then all H ---- E ---- double hockey sticks broke loose when we realized that we had just grouted our beautiful 200 sq. foot floor with quickset mortar. Dad was in charge of getting all the supplies this time from the hardware store and didn't realize that the cement mortar bags that were right next to the grout. Because he didn't take his glasses with him shopping on Wednesday he didn't even know, and I had put all faith in his ability to buy the necessary supplies (I still have total faith in him not speaking bad about him at all) because I guess we either both go to buy them or I just pick them up before he comes up to Salt Lake.
So the sad realization is that old age sucks, and worse than that is that my father that is my best friend in the whole world is getting old and really needs glasses to do anything that has any importance in the world.
We are good, near professional, tile layers but this one time we just happened to use the wrong materials. Thanks old age.
We have been working hard at the plant and seems like every night we have had occupied with something or other at the apartments. So time for blogging has been put on the back burner until I can squeeze in that extra few minutes a night to actually sit down without passing out. The sad realization that I have come to is that old age sucks. I don't try and claim old age yet, I am seeing it and feeling it first hand through my poor father. I love the guy a ton, probably don't have a better friend in the whole world then him. Love and adore he really is a great guy for those that don't know him, and for those that do know him you know what I am talking about. He has this aura of being very rough and tough around the edges but really is a loving and caring dude.
He is getting older and it is a pretty sad thing. The way that I see it is only slightly but affecting him considerably. We have been tiling a floor for the last couple of days. He has had to do all of the laying of the tile while I have the "cush" job of measuring cuts and then cutting the tiles. I couldn't figure out why he always wants to take the harder of the two man job but then I started to realize the other day that without his glasses (that he can never find) he can't see the tape measure. So because of his bad sight he just has to do the job the requires not a lot of use from the eyes. So he is getting more worn out because of this fact, but we were able to finish a 200 sq. foot area in two days. We allow the tile glue to dry for at least 24 hours before going to the next and final step of the process, grouting the tile. This is the step that led me to realize that old age sucks and that he is getting older.
The tile looked perfectly laid and was going to turn out awesome when we started grouting this afternoon. Everything was going smoothly I was down on my hands and knees this time grouting the whole floor, really everything was going very smoothly and was actually turning out to be a very fast and well liked stop to the tiling process. Then all H ---- E ---- double hockey sticks broke loose when we realized that we had just grouted our beautiful 200 sq. foot floor with quickset mortar. Dad was in charge of getting all the supplies this time from the hardware store and didn't realize that the cement mortar bags that were right next to the grout. Because he didn't take his glasses with him shopping on Wednesday he didn't even know, and I had put all faith in his ability to buy the necessary supplies (I still have total faith in him not speaking bad about him at all) because I guess we either both go to buy them or I just pick them up before he comes up to Salt Lake.
So the sad realization is that old age sucks, and worse than that is that my father that is my best friend in the whole world is getting old and really needs glasses to do anything that has any importance in the world.
We are good, near professional, tile layers but this one time we just happened to use the wrong materials. Thanks old age.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Money
I just got done reading Sarah's (older sister) blog, check it out if you haven't Seven Village Idiarts, and I realized something that we all know all to well. This life is all about money, not so much for the things that you might want or need here in your daily life. You really can get by with very little money and still be extremely happy. What I am referring to is to see the rest of the world. Money, airlines, travel is all very expensive.
I have an older sister that will be getting married on the Italian island of Sardinia sometime later this year. She may not be back to the United States for a very long time and everyone in our family is trying to figure out someway to get there to be there for her wedding and also to see the beauty that is this part of the world. Some of my siblings have already decided that they will not be able to go due to money and time off school or work. Others have decided to go and there are still those of us that are undecided.
On Sunday I got a phone call from a very close friend from childhood who is living in Hawaii. He graduated from BYU and got a job with a pretty large hotel chain and his first assignment was in Hawaii. Well he says that people were very willing to say that they would come and visit when they got the assignment but as a now nobody has went to visit, and in February he will be reassigned to somewhere here on the "mainland".
So as you can see there are always all of these really interesting and important vacations that could be taken, but there is always that factor of money. How nice it would be to be so rich and not have to worry about money at all and be able to do all of the traveling that one wanted to do. I really wouldn't be one of those rich snobby millionaires, I would probably even keep working just take more vacations whenever I wanted. I would even give money away to the less fortunate and take them with me to those much needed vacations.
But since I am not I will just have to oh wait the boss hurt his back at work this last week and might be out indefinitely and so maybe there are no hopes for going anywhere, or taking any vacation time for another long while. I guess that time will tell as to where and when to take vacation.
I have an older sister that will be getting married on the Italian island of Sardinia sometime later this year. She may not be back to the United States for a very long time and everyone in our family is trying to figure out someway to get there to be there for her wedding and also to see the beauty that is this part of the world. Some of my siblings have already decided that they will not be able to go due to money and time off school or work. Others have decided to go and there are still those of us that are undecided.
On Sunday I got a phone call from a very close friend from childhood who is living in Hawaii. He graduated from BYU and got a job with a pretty large hotel chain and his first assignment was in Hawaii. Well he says that people were very willing to say that they would come and visit when they got the assignment but as a now nobody has went to visit, and in February he will be reassigned to somewhere here on the "mainland".
So as you can see there are always all of these really interesting and important vacations that could be taken, but there is always that factor of money. How nice it would be to be so rich and not have to worry about money at all and be able to do all of the traveling that one wanted to do. I really wouldn't be one of those rich snobby millionaires, I would probably even keep working just take more vacations whenever I wanted. I would even give money away to the less fortunate and take them with me to those much needed vacations.
But since I am not I will just have to oh wait the boss hurt his back at work this last week and might be out indefinitely and so maybe there are no hopes for going anywhere, or taking any vacation time for another long while. I guess that time will tell as to where and when to take vacation.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A reason I should buy my own home
I realized yesterday one of the many reasons that I have yet to buy my own home. I hate yard work. Allergies spring up, you have to haul away all the twigs and branches that you cut down, and you still have to tend the kids (only with power tools that can remove small extremities if you are not extremely careful).
Most of you know that we live in the Apartments on Capitol Hill in Downtown Salt Lake City. This is a wonderful opportunity for us to work off rent and learn a lot about ourselves and things that I really do hate. I guess that I can't say that I have ever liked yard work. I think my parents home in Alaska had to be on at least a half acre lot (probably giving them the benefit of the doubt) and it seems like that dang lawn grew a few inches every week. I remember cutting that large lawn what seemed like every week, and there was no easy way around cutting it, you just hoped that it hadn't rained the Friday before or else you were cutting the lawn in what seemed to be a half acre swamp. Tires sinking around every turn and the lawnmower bag only held like to passes around the yard and you had to make like honestly 50 passes no joke. The good thing about Alaska was that the parents obviously didn't care more then having lawn, or things didn't grow because all we had was lawn, no bushes or shrubs. So I got my hate for mowing lawn at an early age in Alaska. It wasn't until we moved to St. George, Utah in 1994 that I really found out what yard work was really all about.
The home in St. George is on a much smaller lot and much less lawn (thank heavens), but for some reason things seem to grow much better in St. George so Dad thought it would be good to do the same that was done at the Apartments in Salt Lake 50 - 60 years ago. Have a nice sized lawn, then put tons of bushes all over the property and at the very edges line the whole homestead with fruit trees. This is a great theory but not really because you have so much more to keep up. I don't like to complain because it does make things look so much nicer then just a bare lawn. I was in St. George a couple of weeks ago where two of my younger brothers live and things were looking a little bit overgrown and I asked Dad what was happening and his answer was a calm and straightforward "It gives me allergies". I couldn't help but laugh a little inside, he must be getting soft in his older age because the two boys at home were not even thought about, having the possibility of doing the yard work. I did silently think to myself and you wonder why the astronomical amount of yard work doesn't get done at the Apartments.
So I helped him trim his bushes, shrubs, trees and anything else that he might have needed the electric trims in St. George for so that I could bring them to Salt Lake. Now the yards at the Apartments are by far the largest lawns that I have ever had to tend. (Employing a professional might not be a bad idea in the future) My Grandfather, Norris, bless his soul had a great vision for the Columbus Street Apartments. I know that he was heeding the word of the prophets in preparing a plot of land that would produce fruit in times of need. The only problem that I can for see is that I don't know how to trim fruit trees, and make them actually produce healthy large fruit. The grounds at the apartments are not a quick morning project either, the lawns themselves take about 3 hours, then the trimming of the bushes and trees take another 3 - 4 hours then all the hauling away of the dead branches. Let me tell you if anyone has a ward that needs some service hours I have some great service projects for them to do.
Don't get me wrong I love living at the apartments that are a legacy to Norris Goold, he really did have a great vision for what would serve the community and the family in the future. I guess I just haven't ever liked yard work and probably never will. I guess if I did buy my own home I could decide how much yard work that I would have to do, maybe not such a bad idea afterwards.
Most of you know that we live in the Apartments on Capitol Hill in Downtown Salt Lake City. This is a wonderful opportunity for us to work off rent and learn a lot about ourselves and things that I really do hate. I guess that I can't say that I have ever liked yard work. I think my parents home in Alaska had to be on at least a half acre lot (probably giving them the benefit of the doubt) and it seems like that dang lawn grew a few inches every week. I remember cutting that large lawn what seemed like every week, and there was no easy way around cutting it, you just hoped that it hadn't rained the Friday before or else you were cutting the lawn in what seemed to be a half acre swamp. Tires sinking around every turn and the lawnmower bag only held like to passes around the yard and you had to make like honestly 50 passes no joke. The good thing about Alaska was that the parents obviously didn't care more then having lawn, or things didn't grow because all we had was lawn, no bushes or shrubs. So I got my hate for mowing lawn at an early age in Alaska. It wasn't until we moved to St. George, Utah in 1994 that I really found out what yard work was really all about.
The home in St. George is on a much smaller lot and much less lawn (thank heavens), but for some reason things seem to grow much better in St. George so Dad thought it would be good to do the same that was done at the Apartments in Salt Lake 50 - 60 years ago. Have a nice sized lawn, then put tons of bushes all over the property and at the very edges line the whole homestead with fruit trees. This is a great theory but not really because you have so much more to keep up. I don't like to complain because it does make things look so much nicer then just a bare lawn. I was in St. George a couple of weeks ago where two of my younger brothers live and things were looking a little bit overgrown and I asked Dad what was happening and his answer was a calm and straightforward "It gives me allergies". I couldn't help but laugh a little inside, he must be getting soft in his older age because the two boys at home were not even thought about, having the possibility of doing the yard work. I did silently think to myself and you wonder why the astronomical amount of yard work doesn't get done at the Apartments.
So I helped him trim his bushes, shrubs, trees and anything else that he might have needed the electric trims in St. George for so that I could bring them to Salt Lake. Now the yards at the Apartments are by far the largest lawns that I have ever had to tend. (Employing a professional might not be a bad idea in the future) My Grandfather, Norris, bless his soul had a great vision for the Columbus Street Apartments. I know that he was heeding the word of the prophets in preparing a plot of land that would produce fruit in times of need. The only problem that I can for see is that I don't know how to trim fruit trees, and make them actually produce healthy large fruit. The grounds at the apartments are not a quick morning project either, the lawns themselves take about 3 hours, then the trimming of the bushes and trees take another 3 - 4 hours then all the hauling away of the dead branches. Let me tell you if anyone has a ward that needs some service hours I have some great service projects for them to do.
Don't get me wrong I love living at the apartments that are a legacy to Norris Goold, he really did have a great vision for what would serve the community and the family in the future. I guess I just haven't ever liked yard work and probably never will. I guess if I did buy my own home I could decide how much yard work that I would have to do, maybe not such a bad idea afterwards.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Privileges
For those of you that don't know about us Goolds, we live in a two bedroom apartment in Salt Lake City. I was realizing today some of the advantages of not having space in the apartments for some very common household items. We don't have a dishwasher, and our laundry room is also our kitchen which kind of just forms our dining room. We have never lived in our married life anywhere larger with more space so we have come accustomed to the little bit of cramped we feel here in 595 B Columbus Street.
I was realizing today something that I haven't ever known before but seems to work very well. Here at the Goold household it is actually a privilege to wash the dishes with Dad. I realized this today as I was washing the dishes and Ariana asked if she could help. She really didn't want to finish her carrots and potatoes. So she became aware that washing the dishes or chores are a privilege that only those who have finished their dinner can help with. She was able to finish her dinner with amazing speed after this and then was given the privilege of putting the clean dishes in the dish rack.
Another privilege I know that my children have is taking a bath. They can't take a bath unless their toys are cleaned up first. This seems to be a very good practice as 1)they enjoy bathing 2)they don't enjoy cleaning up their toys. I don't know if using what your children like against them to do things that they don't likes is morally correct but as I said it seems to be working so I think that I will keep up the good child rearing practice.
I was realizing today something that I haven't ever known before but seems to work very well. Here at the Goold household it is actually a privilege to wash the dishes with Dad. I realized this today as I was washing the dishes and Ariana asked if she could help. She really didn't want to finish her carrots and potatoes. So she became aware that washing the dishes or chores are a privilege that only those who have finished their dinner can help with. She was able to finish her dinner with amazing speed after this and then was given the privilege of putting the clean dishes in the dish rack.
Another privilege I know that my children have is taking a bath. They can't take a bath unless their toys are cleaned up first. This seems to be a very good practice as 1)they enjoy bathing 2)they don't enjoy cleaning up their toys. I don't know if using what your children like against them to do things that they don't likes is morally correct but as I said it seems to be working so I think that I will keep up the good child rearing practice.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
To buzz or not to buzz
I really don't want to try and meet or beat anyone on a blog. The whole blogging before 8:30 am I would have to say impossible, sorry I value those morning hours way to much to get up any earlier to blog. I like it and all but probably not to that fanatical state yet. I do like just coming on the computer and being able to ramble on for as long as I'd like. Mike or Becca not sure who might have written that little tidbit, feel free this is going out there for anyone to read. Hopefully there are never things said that are taken seriously. Sarah does have what I think of as the perfect blog, haven't checked out many others so not really able to put it up against anything else. Feel free to come and go as you please "the door is always open".
So Sarah I will not be able to keep up with your blogging early mornings, that one might have just been a fluke, nor will I be able to blog from my bathroom (would require some serious rearranging of furniture) but I will try and put a little something out there everyday.
I was trying to think of something to write about today and I came across a little something after I had cut Matthew's hair. Gave him his first real buzz cut today. Karolain wasn't to excited about the whole deal yesterday, pretty much got the whole "no how are you going to do that to him you will scar him for life" shpeal. She just doesn't understand the background we Goold's come from. Everyone knows that is the young Goold hairstyle. Everyone into the bathroom, get down to the skivies, put on the mandatory see through poncho and let Dad hack away at the mop top. It was pretty fun to be the Dad and put Matthew on the stool, in his diaper, and shave off the mop (he had like two dustpans of hair up there). It actually might have scarred him for life, two years old might be a little young for the trimmers? (what are those things called). He might have cried the whole way through, there might be some spots where the hair is a little bit longer then in others and he might never look the same (all that hair was actually making his melon appear smaller he's back to having the watermelon on a toothpick). It was really fun though to be the one doing all the cutting and not having to suffer through all the drama that is being the kid on the barstool. Exciting, can't wait for it to grow back so that I can cut again. Might seem a little psychotic to those out there who haven't had the chance or should I say life changing experience that is cutting no buzzing your sons hair for the first time.
I really hated sitting in the upstairs bathroom, in my underwear, wearing a see through poncho while Dad went to town on my head. I guess that I am finding out and redeeming myself for some of those things that I disliked so much as a child, with my own children. So Michael those snippers that you have are not only handy now but they will be really handy later down the road when you have little Michaels running around with a mop.
Monday, June 9, 2008
I do love older siblings
I do love my older and younger siblings. I would like to comment on one at this time, Sarah. She really is a cool lady. Will be 34 years old this year, 5 children, loves and lives life to the fullest. If you ever get the chance end up some how on her blog (seven village idiarts). Quite possible some of the best stuff that can be found on the internet, definitely funnier than that crap that you can find on youtube. Really is some guy trying to fly off his second story roof funny, it may seem at the time but the comic genius Sarah is amazing, maybe it is only me but seems like every time on her blog she has some new crack at life and it just makes sense but also is simply hilarious. I really don't want to make any other siblings jealous, but I'm pretty sure that none of them blog maybe some younger ones, they are ok also because they won't even care.
I do have some really great memories of my oldest sister. For some reason I think most of my likes in life came from her. I was browsing her blog, pretty much a daily occurrence (ok ashamed to say sometimes 2 or 3 times a day), and happened upon "my favorite 80's tunes". It is amazing how one set of songs can set the mind into reminiscence.
For those who don't know the Goolds here is a short history. 5 kids in 10 years, then a couple more came along about 6 years afterwards. We grew up in Valdez Alaska. Our childhood home had 6 bedrooms, 3 upstairs (one was my mothers study) and 3 downstairs. When we were little we had the sweet life the white carpeted nursery right next to mom and dads bedroom (spent many nights sleeping at the foot of their humongous water bed). At about age 8, 6 for Michael, we were sent to live in the basement with all the other siblings (for lack of a better word). The only problem was that there weren't enough bedrooms for the older kids to have their own bedroom and for a long time they were not willing to share their private space their bed wetting younger brothers (ok I don't think Michael ever wet the bed, but I did until I was 10). We were sort of like nomads in our own home, shuffled around until Dad could figure out some place to stick us (and they wonder why Michael won't move out, he is just paying them back for the shuffling he had to endure, keep it up Michael don't let them keep shuffling you around). I really remember living in the laundry/furnace/weasel living outside the window room for a short period. So we ended up living in the basement....umh communal space. After a few years we were fortunate enough for Dad to purchase some be bookshelf/entertainment center/whatever it created that much needed buffer zone between us and the older "dorks" (look at their pictures from this era you will agree). Michael and I must have lived like this for many years, in the space.
How I would have loved to live in St. George 10 years earlier at least their are 8 bedrooms and enough bathrooms for more than 2 people to go at the same time. That is another story for another day, bathrooms in the goold home growing up.
Back to the space, imagine with me if you will a 14 year old girl (Sarah), a 12 year old boy (Jonathan), a 10 year old girl (Briana) and the two nomads Paul (10) and Michael (8) living in the basement of our parents home (3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom and 5 stereos trying to blare each childs favorite music. This is what reminded me of this living situation. The only music mom and dad could ever hear was Paul or Michaels because we conveniently were at the bottom of the stairs so we were told to turn down the ruccus. This means for most of our adolescence we were forced to listen to the music of our older, dorkier siblings. Thus I come back to my original statement, how I do love older siblings. Their taste of music was so inspiring, a little forced but still burned that legacy in my mind. So when Sarah has her favorite 80's tunes on her blog I can't help but reminisce on why I know and love all of those songs. Thanks sis.
I do have some really great memories of my oldest sister. For some reason I think most of my likes in life came from her. I was browsing her blog, pretty much a daily occurrence (ok ashamed to say sometimes 2 or 3 times a day), and happened upon "my favorite 80's tunes". It is amazing how one set of songs can set the mind into reminiscence.
For those who don't know the Goolds here is a short history. 5 kids in 10 years, then a couple more came along about 6 years afterwards. We grew up in Valdez Alaska. Our childhood home had 6 bedrooms, 3 upstairs (one was my mothers study) and 3 downstairs. When we were little we had the sweet life the white carpeted nursery right next to mom and dads bedroom (spent many nights sleeping at the foot of their humongous water bed). At about age 8, 6 for Michael, we were sent to live in the basement with all the other siblings (for lack of a better word). The only problem was that there weren't enough bedrooms for the older kids to have their own bedroom and for a long time they were not willing to share their private space their bed wetting younger brothers (ok I don't think Michael ever wet the bed, but I did until I was 10). We were sort of like nomads in our own home, shuffled around until Dad could figure out some place to stick us (and they wonder why Michael won't move out, he is just paying them back for the shuffling he had to endure, keep it up Michael don't let them keep shuffling you around). I really remember living in the laundry/furnace/weasel living outside the window room for a short period. So we ended up living in the basement....umh communal space. After a few years we were fortunate enough for Dad to purchase some be bookshelf/entertainment center/whatever it created that much needed buffer zone between us and the older "dorks" (look at their pictures from this era you will agree). Michael and I must have lived like this for many years, in the space.
How I would have loved to live in St. George 10 years earlier at least their are 8 bedrooms and enough bathrooms for more than 2 people to go at the same time. That is another story for another day, bathrooms in the goold home growing up.
Back to the space, imagine with me if you will a 14 year old girl (Sarah), a 12 year old boy (Jonathan), a 10 year old girl (Briana) and the two nomads Paul (10) and Michael (8) living in the basement of our parents home (3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom and 5 stereos trying to blare each childs favorite music. This is what reminded me of this living situation. The only music mom and dad could ever hear was Paul or Michaels because we conveniently were at the bottom of the stairs so we were told to turn down the ruccus. This means for most of our adolescence we were forced to listen to the music of our older, dorkier siblings. Thus I come back to my original statement, how I do love older siblings. Their taste of music was so inspiring, a little forced but still burned that legacy in my mind. So when Sarah has her favorite 80's tunes on her blog I can't help but reminisce on why I know and love all of those songs. Thanks sis.
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