Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in dogs

A slither instead of a lizard

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Our one-year-old Westie, Winston, has amazing lizard radar. When he catches the slightest glimpse of one, inside or out, he’s on a mission to hunt it down and do something with it. I don’t think he would eat it. I think he just wants to play.

Lizards make their way into our back porch, hiding among the many toys we’ve accumulated to entertain the grandchildren. Winston knows they are there, constantly pulling books off the shelves, rooting around behind cubbies, and knocking over stacks of cardboard building bricks in search of a lizard.

So I didn’t think much of his scrambling around the other night. It was dark and I figured he had a lizard cornered. I grabbed a broom to sweep it out the back door. But I didn’t see a lizard. I glimpsed a slither and before I could react, Winston grabbed the small snake in his mouth and ran outside.

Most of the snakes I find in our yard are harmless, but you never know. In the darkness I can see Winston circling, crouching, and pouncing in the grass. As much as I enjoyed watching his fancy footwork, I knew it was time to call the fight. I grabbed a Milk Bone and lured him back in the house, and everyone was back where they were supposed to be.

On the one hand, I’m glad he got the snake out of the house before my wife got home from work. But I’m also glad I didn’t have to make a trip to the emergency vet for a snake bite.

I think we’ll stick to chasing squirrels, bunnies, lizards, and an occasional bug.

Posted in Moments of grace

Enjoy the sprinkles

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve learned a lot about living in the moment from my grandchildren. For the most part, their lives are all about right now. They have no calendar, no to-do list, no appointments, and no notifications.

A couple of the granddaughters live out this truth before my eyes at the donut shop. Their donut choice is always the same: pink icing with sprinkles. We sit at a table and they get to work.

While I would polish off a donut like that in four or five bites, they start with the sprinkles. They pick up and savor every sprinkle one by one. As you might imagine, this takes at least ten minutes.

Next comes the icing. There are two ways to do this. You can lick the icing off the top of the donut. Or you can put it in your mouth one finger full at a time. Either way, this step isn’t over until the donut has been completely de-iced. This will take another ten minutes.

Now it’s time for the donut itself. The proper way to do this is to take little bites all the way around the top of the donut. A few times around the donut and you’re done. Except for the icing around your mouth, and crumbs on you lap, the table, the chair and the floor.

The process takes at least thirty minutes. For those thirty minutes, though, nothing else matters. Time is immaterial. It’s just you and the donut, alone in the universe.

Will they always be slow, intentional eaters? Will they always savor every morsel? Or will they learn to wolf down a couple of donuts between the drive thru window and the interstate? Who knows.

It’s astounding…time is fleeting…unless you slow down to enjoy the sprinkles.

Posted in Moments of grace

Today might be the day!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

“You never know. Today might be the day my Creator calls me home.”

Well, that’s not the kind of answer I was expecting. I simply asked, “How’s it going today?”

A couple of techs had come to install the sliding screen doors on our garage. I knew them from the first time they came out. About two months ago they were ready to do the install but discovered the manufacturer had made the doors a couple of inches too short. This time, though, everything was fitting perfectly.

Tech number one was hurting. He had just been in a serious car accident and was nursing a sore back. Tech number two did the heavy lifting. Towards the end of the job, I asked number two if his week was going to be busy.

He replied, “I just take it one day at a time. You never know. Today might be the day my Creator calls me home.”

I said, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” But I’ve been thinking about his words and that outlook on life.

One current mantra is “be present.” Be “in the moment.” Get off your phone. Take your eyes off the screen. Don’t be distracted by any number of distractions. When you’re with someone, be there, listening and interacting with them.

I spend a lot of time on my digital calendar. That’s where I plan the future. Even in retirement, life is filled with places to be, people to see, commitments, appointments, holidays, and special occasions. Or I look back to remember what happened, where I went, and things I forgot to do.

But what about today?

You and I really don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. And there’s nothing we can do to change the past. What’s left?

Today.

I’m not saying you need to get a whole lot done today. Although you might. I’m not saying you need to clear your schedule. Although you might. I’m not saying you shouldn’t plan for tomorrow or next month. I’m not saying you should forget all your great memories from the past.

Just make sure you have a “today.”

Who will you talk to today? What will you eat today (yukky or yummy)? What or who will make you laugh today? What will you create today? What kinds of things will you say today? What job or project will you work on today? How long of a nap will you take today? Who will you pray for today? What will you bake today? (Please bake something!)

Someone once said, “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

Live today as if it may be your last. But also pace yourself as though you’ve got many days to go. Your life is finite. But you are alive today. You may never have this opportunity again. But you will have many more opportunities.

If it’s a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, it will be over soon. If it’s a wonderful day, you’ll remember it fondly. If it’s your last day, you get to go home. Tell Jesus I said, “Hi.” If you wake up here, you get another chance. Give someone a call and say, “Hi.”

Oh, and bake something, too!

Posted in coffee, Life

Back in the coffee groove

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Ugh, that’s not very good.”

My first sip of morning coffee was disappointing. The brew was weak with a strange taste, not at all what I was expecting. But it was early, my taste buds probably weren’t fully awake yet, and at least it was hot.

Half a cup later, I decided, “I shouldn’t have to put up with this. I’m going to make another cup.” Maybe a rogue coffee pod had found its way into the box of organic dark roast from Sam’s Club, which typically makes a good cup. I dumped the water and filled the reservoir with it with fresh. I washed out my favorite coffee mug, something I admit I don’t do often enough. I made sure I pushed the “strong” button on the coffee maker before the cup size.

And then I thought, “Did I put a new coffee pod in the first time?” Of course I did. I always do. Yet in the early morning darkness with the day’s plans on my mind, was it possible? I looked in the trash can. I didn’t see a used pod in there. You’ve got to be kidding. No wonder it tasted bad. These weren’t designed to be used more than once. I had run water through a day-old used pod. The second cup tasted much better, confirming my theory.

I’ve never done this before. I’m a morning person. I don’t stumble through the dawn into my day. I hit the ground running. But this was our first day back home after a week of travel. I had to brew pots of drip coffee at the Airbnb. The hotels brewed fresh coffee for me in the lobby. I was out of sync.

I’ve got my coffee groove back now.

Posted in Life

The kill switch was killing it

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We had just walked in the door after a week away. I switched the thermostat from hold back to the programmed temperature. Everything looked OK. Until I walked back into the garage and happened to glance at the AC unit. I saw no flashing lights. Usually, there are green and blue lights flashing continually, a sign that everything is working normally. If you see a red light, there’s a problem. No lights? I never saw that before.

I did what I could. I turned the breaker off and on. I checked the drain which sometimes gets clogged, triggering a shut-off switch. Nothing.

It’s 4:00 pm on a Friday. I’ll bet I have to wait till Monday for a repair. I called anyway. They said someone might be able to get there this afternoon. I said, “OK, I’ll be around.”

Five minutes later, a tech was at the door. He had been at a house just down the street. Nice!

After I described what was going on, he got to work. It was a puzzle. There were no indicator lights to clue him in on the problem. He checked a couple a fuses. Nothing amiss. I went back in the house while he kept checking around.

When I came back out, he said, “I figured out the problem.” There are two kill switches that turn off the AC when you open up a door to change the filter. The switches didn’t quite close when the door was in place, leaving the unit off. It was an easy fix. The tech taped a piece of cardboard on the inside of the door so that the switches would work as intended.

I still had to pay the show up fee and for fifteen minutes of labor, but everything works just fine. It’s a little cooler out now, so AC isn’t as crucial as in summer. It’s the humidity that makes it necessary.

So I’m thankful Arctic Breeze had a tech nearby who could diagnose and make the easy fix.

Posted in Life

They found my package, and it wasn’t pretty

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This is a follow up to “The Case of the Missing Package.”

As soon as I returned home from a recent trip to Dallas, I planned to file a claim with UPS and get the value of the lost item and shipping charges I had paid. Every package I send comes with $100 of insurance. All I have to do is provide a couple of receipts, and the money should be on the way.

When I pulled in the driveway and opened the garage door, I could see a very large package wrapped in lots of white packing tape. My neighbor had brought plenty of packages in while we were gone, but we hadn’t ordered anything that big.

I knew exactly what it was. I opened the flap and peeked inside. Sure enough, it was the missing diaper genie I had shipped to a buyer in South Carolina. Later on I opened it up and it was damaged in several places and accessories were missing. A letter from UPS came along with it. The letter basically blamed me for not packing my shipment correctly. It was my fault, not theirs, so there would be no insurance claim.

The letter had suggestions for future shipments. The gist of the instructions: use lots and lots of tape. Tape up every edge, every corner, every flap with at least three layers of tape. If you don’t use up a whole roll of tape, you haven’t used enough.

I flashed back to packages my mom used to send me. Mom knew how to tape up a package. She sent boxes of goodies to me at college in a shoebox wrapped up in brown paper. She would tie heavy twine around the sides. She then taped it all up with a twine reinforced tape. I am convinced she did use a whole roll of tape to secure every edge, side, and flap. Without a very sharp knife, I could not begin to open the package. Needless to say, she was never guilty of improperly preparing a package for shipment, although I know she spent more on the tape than on the contents.

I don’t think I was at fault either. The shipping guy, where I dropped off my package, didn’t say a word. Okay, I didn’t use a whole roll of tape, but I’m sure I went around the box a lot of times.

The contents were only worth twenty bucks. I only paid fifteen for shipping. It’s not worth my time. But I assure you my future packages will be impervious to damage in the future. Some readers may remember the Samsonite luggage commercial with an ape tossing suitcases around. Yes, that will be my packaging goal from now on.

Posted in AI

AI Assistant, will you be my friend?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

Every time I get ready to click on the publish button, I can click on “AI Assistant.” Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? It sounds high tech, cutting edge, and futuristic. The subheading promises to “check for mistakes and verify the tone of your post before publishing.” Cool. It’s like asking someone proofreading my work before I put it out there for the world to read. How nice. I would appreciate that.

But when I gave it a try, AI basically said, “Your writing sucks.” I’ve tried this a few times, and here is the evaluation I typically get:

  • You need to include more examples that support your main point. Tell a few more stories that will connect with your reader.
  • Write a stronger introduction and conclusion to draw in the reader and make a lasting impression.
  • Add more details, that is, add lots of adjectives to your description of people, places, and things. Let the reader see the details of the experience through your eyes.
  • Say more about the location and surroundings, the people in the story, and how you felt in that moment.

I’ve never asked for much feedback about my writing. I know, that’s the only way to improve as a writer. Maybe I’ve never really thought of myself as a writer. Perhaps I’ve overestimated my skill as a writer. My skin might just be thinner than I thought.

In any case, I didn’t like the experience of being evaluated. I didn’t appreciate AI’s input. I probably wouldn’t like a real person’s input either. But I need that from both.

AI knows what billions of people have read and liked. It knows what will resonate with my small audience. Real people are a little too kind. They simply say, “Nice job! Loved it. Keep up the good work.” AI has no vested interest in me. It’s entirely neutral. It knows what goes viral.

Maybe I should pay more attention. Maybe I’m one step closer to going viral. Maybe my best-seller is just a few words away. Maybe AI is my newest best friend in the world of writing.

Posted in Moments of grace

I say, “Oat.” you say, “Meal.” Oatmeal!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Guess what I saw this morning? An oatmeal bar!

Yesterday I was out there ranting about the salad bar at Ruby Tuesday in Pensacola, Florida. That was nothing. I got up this morning, wandered down to get some coffee at the Fairfield Inn and Suites in Pensacola, and saw this. An oatmeal bar!

That’s right, a steaming pot of freshly prepared oatmeal with nine optional toppings sat right there next to a pitcher of oat milk and a shaker of cinnamon. Wait a minute. Nine toppings? That’s right. Walnuts, craisins, granola, brown sugar, raisins, pumpkin seeds, sliced almonds, chocolate chips, and coconut flakes.

I rubbed my eyes. Yep, this was the real deal.

Free breakfast usually means a disk of sausage-like meat, rubbery scrambled eggs, juice, a waffle, mushy apples and an unripe banana, and cereal with milk. Oatmeal? Cool!

After coffee and a shower, we headed to the lobby and to get a bowl full of early morning oatmeal-goodness.

Now, I am determined to up my oatmeal game. Feel free to stop by for an amazing breakfast.

Posted in Moments of grace

Long live the salad bar!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As I reached for the handle to open the restaurant door for my wife I saw it. I did a double take. And then I said, “They have a salad bar!”

Do you remember salad bars? We saw one! A vintage sixteen foot, help yourself, all-you-can-eat, as-many-trips-as-you-want Ruby Tuesday salad bar. This was the only real restaurant close to our hotel on the way home from our most recent trip to Dallas. We’re glad we stopped in.

Once Covid shut down everything over three years ago, salad bars disappeared. Were they the reason everyone was getting sick? I don’t know.

Four kinds of greens. All the veggies from cukes to shredded carrots, bell peppers to broccoli, radishes to cherry tomatoes. Chopped up eggs, diced ham, chick peas and edamame. Croutons, seeds, and bacon bits, seven kinds of salad dressing. Amazing.

I’ll bet there’s a whole generation of diners who have never seen a salad bar. Just like a wired phone or a television antenna, they only exist in grandpa’s stories of the good old days.

Every once in a while, someone spots a bird or animal thought to be extinct. I got to be that guy tonight!