Monday, January 11, 2010

Did I mention that change is good?

As I've mentioned before, my husband and I own a construction company.  We were flying high in 2007.  The world was ours to reach for.  Then 2008 came along and life was a little harder.  We didn't enjoy 2009 very much.  I think 2010 will be better, but we are all a bit traumatized. 

As my Father used to say about challenges, "It Builds Character!"  Our life together over the last 2 years has shown us what we are made of.  If you have been in a successful longterm partnership, you have the experience of knowing the absolute worst, deep dark nasties of your partner and also the sublime, god-like perfection of your partner.  My parents were like that. 

My Father was fearless.. and just a little reckless.  I believe he had a severe learning disability which he passed along to me, but also a keen intelligence.  He could build anything, do anything, make anything.  He knew how everything worked.  He had energy and stamina to burn.  He also couldn't read or write above about a 4th grade level.  Being a trained teacher myself, I believe that (1) I have the same learning disability and (2) I was fortunate to have had a few excellent tutors and role models.  I was taught compensations to my learning disability.  I just think differently.  The right teacher (Mrs. Wellander, Miss Pierce, and Mr. Clark, bless you all) makes all the difference. 

But, my father was born December 5, 1929 in Cheyenne Valley, Oklahoma at the beginning of the depression.  By the way, Cheyenne Valley, Oklahoma, no longer exists for notable reasons.  My father taught me that I could do anything.  That I was smarter than the Average Bear.  That I had stamina and strength that I didn't even know I had.  That I could do things if I could only figure it out.

My Mother was Articulate, Thoughtful, and Brilliant.  If you look at my post on December 27th, you may see something else, but that is what she was.  She was also fearful in all the ways my father was fearless.  My mothers' fearfulness dominated many of their decisions, but they balanced each other in ways my husband balances me.  When my father started a business, my mother took accounting classes.  That is the way with us also.  My mother was born on Marh 13, 1936 in Cleo Springs, OK during the depression to watermellon farmers, Lee and Irene Rose.  She was born to two amazing people who did amazing things once they only had a chance. 

Now back to Darrell and I in January 2010.  We've been looking for a property which has the qualities of our home, but also has the qualities of our business.  We are hoping for both functions on one property to reduce overall costs.  We found a property like that today.  Many good qualities.  Well, an electric stove, that's bad.  And I could go on and on.  But it had a nice house and a shop for the business and another residence where our kids, who also work for us, could live.

I could have a chicken coup.  Josh could have a cow he could raise for the butcher.  My dad would have loved the set up.  My mother would have immediately started canning things and making curtains.  Whether we'll actually make a change is unknown.  I'm proud of us for working through the problems and looking for solutions. 

Me, I came back and felt grateful to have a warm bright comfortable home.  I immediately started cooking.

This is brown rice cooked in beef stock and a little salt.  Some butter, then some cooked brocolli and some shredded parmesan cheese.

  Husband has a beef sausage that he likes.  I have another recipe using it that also has potatoe and tomato.  It will be in the cookbook.  See my October 29 post.

Here I've heated a little olive oil and browned it.  I poured the sausage and all the liquid in the pan over the other ingredients.  Then, I stuck it in a 350 degree oven for 20 minutes.  Pretty good.  And even pretty healthy.

Remember to be a good roll model to someone.

1 comment:

  1. This is a fun post. I like the little back story about your family.

    I too grew up with construction. My dad laid wood floors. The garage was converted into a shop and the office was in the basement. Our kitchen table every morning had guys in overalls drinking coffee and having a "pow-wow" before they went off to their resepective job sites. In the evening the white work vans would back into their parking spots and the guys would sit on the front porch and have a beer, maybe even stay for dinner if they didn't have a wife yet.

    It was a good way to grow up. I would love to work from home so I could give that life to my kids.

    My father retired about 10 years back and sold the business. He still putters in the shop. His old work budies come around and they talk about how hard construction is these days. Most of them are modifying what they do to keep the bills paid. That's one of the most amazing things about people who work with their hands. They are really good at improvising and making due with what they've got.