Category: Life

Posted in dogs, Life

No instructions? No problem!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Daniël Maas on Unsplash

I recently helped my daughter, husband, and two boys move into their brand new home. After moving all the heavy stuff in from a trailer, there were a few things to put together, like the boys’ beds.

With the help of a cousin, I assembled bed number one, the bigger of the two, without any trouble. Bed number two was more of a challenge. A few months ago, their golden retriever puppy had chewed up the corner of the box. No parts of the bed were damaged. But he managed to obliterate the instructions.

Since I’ve assembled more than my share of IKEA furniture, I felt confident this would be a breeze. Come on, it’s a just a twin bed with headboard and footboard. An uncle and I opened up the box and got out all the parts. Hmm. Many of the parts looked the same. The legs had lots of holes that had to match up with other holes. It wasn’t obvious which pieces were for the headboard and which were for the footboard.

Thankfully, enough of the box was intact and my partner could look up the model name and number. Once he brought up a picture of the bed from a shopping site, we knew what we had to do. All the screws were the same size, so we didn’t have to guess which ones went where. When we were done, the bed looked just like the picture.

I’ve had plenty of puppies chew up plenty of things in my home. My Labrador retriever Gabriel had a fondness for the heels of shoes and my roommate’s candles. Our chocolate Lab Rachel chewed up the legs of a borrowed rocking chair. We currently find teeth marks in the grandkids’ plastic toys. After a few ripped up rolls of toilet paper, we now keep the bathroom doors closed. The same pup who ate the bed frame instructions stole a couple of uncooked meatballs off the kitchen counter.

A friend of mine lost the cover of his bible to an enthusiastic pup. Just about everyone I know who wears hearing aids has lost one to a curious canine. It’s all part of the fun of being a dog owner.

Speaking of Gabriel (he’s the baseline against which we measure all our dogs), he once tore into a Christmas box my mom sent to us in Connecticut. The box arrived by UPS, and we knew it contained presents for the family. Gabe tore into the box and found the gift for him, a large, carefully wrapped rawhide bone. We came home and found him eagerly chewing on it. He didn’t bother, chew, or rip open anything else in the box. He just knew there was a gift for him in the box and he knew which one it was.

Posted in Life

Vivid backyard memories

Posted on by William Douthwaite
My childhood backyard from the bottom of the hill

The moment my daughter and her family moved into their new home, her boys were outside, running around and playing in the yard. They kicked soccer balls around with their cousins and threw balls for the dog to retrieve. The two previous houses they lived in had little yard to play in. This is so good for them!

What a blessing to have a yard to play in. The home I grew up in had the biggest fenced in backyard on the block. The yard included a big hill with flat areas at the top and bottom. We could roll down the hill pretty fast, crashing into the fence at the bottom. We had enough room to play baseball and football even though we had to climb over the fence to retrieve hits and kicks. In the fall, the maple trees left behind plenty of leaves for huge piles to jump in. In the winter, a little snow made our yard the best sledding hill around. By building a small ramp, we could get airtime with a saucer sled. We ate a lot of mulberries from the trees at the bottom of the hill. My friends and I build a great fort at the bottom with some wood my dad got from a salvage yard. The dogs we owned over the years loved to chase balls thrown from the top of the hill all the way down to the far corner until they were exhausted. We set up giant games of croquet that covered our half-acre.

As I write this, I am amazed at how vivid my backyard memories are from fifty-plus years ago!

Posted in Life

Whose house is this, anyway?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

The small group we’ve been a part of for the past year meets twice a month, rotating through the members’ homes. Last night, we met at a home I haven’t been to before. I had directions to the H******, but I had no idea who they were. I only know most people first names.

I thought I would be clever. I figured that I’d be able to pick up clues at the house and figure out who in our group lived there. I pride myself at noticing things, so I was confident it wouldn’t take me long to figure it out.

However, when I arrived and began looking around, the home had none of the usual clues. First there were no pictures of anyone on the walls. No pictures of children or grandchildren. No framed family pictures from an old church directory. No pictures of fishing trips or cruises or other adventures. Absolutely nothing. Nothing on the refrigerator. No calendar on the wall.

Okay, I guess that would have been too easy. If I keep looking around, I’ll pick up on a hobby and be able to connect the dots. While the home was nicely and simply decorated, I didn’t find any sign of their interests. A Willow Tree nativity sat on a shelf high above the television. The table where we ate was decorated with starfish and sea shells. There were no bookshelves in the living room. There was an electric piano in the dining area, but that didn’t help me.

I watched everyone’s body language. Who acted most at home here? It was hard to tell. I let myself in when I arrived, so no one was working the front door. Lots of people were working in the kitchen, arranging food for supper. Several people sat in the very comfortable chairs in the living area. The family dog greeted everyone with the same enthusiasm.

Finally, I resorted to a process of elimination. One couple arrived late, so I knew it wasn’t them. I realized I had been to the homes of three of the other couples. So this was the home of the fifth.

I enjoy playing games like this, gathering enough clues to solve the puzzle.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in Life

Just park wherever

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After poking around the antique store for a while, my wife and I found an outdoor table at Gracious Plates, an eatery on Main Street. It was a warmer than expected first day in Franklin, North Carolina.

I watch this Mercedes SUV slowlying and deliberately park on top of the line, occupying both spaces right in front of the restaurant. A couple who looked much older than us very slowly made their way into the restaurant. I didn’t have to say a word. My wife knew exactly what I was thinking. But I wondered out loud anyway, “Think that will be us in twenty years?”

As we ate, I watched a cement truck slowly backing in inches away from the expensive vehicle as a road crew waited to finish up some street repairs. My wife made me laugh as she said, “I’ll bet they’re sweating now!”

Maybe that’s the way you do things around here. Ten minutes later this second SUV parks in front of us making no attempt to stay in the lines.

Posted in Life

Can’t you smell that smell?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Arash on Unsplash

The sky is just beginning to lighten in the eastern sky. As we (my dog and I) turn the corner and head into the final stretch of our morning walk, the smell of cigarette smoke hits our noses.

Really? At 6 am? Sure enough, someone is out on their back patio, under their pool screen enclosure, enjoying their first smoke of the day. I’ve never smoked, so I don’t understand the habit. I’ve been told it’s a difficult addiction to overcome. Growing up, I smelled it all the time since my mom smoked a lot at home. Now, smoking isn’t allowed in many public places, so I immediately notice it.

On other walks, we notice the slightly sweet smell of marijuana as we walk past a house in the neighborhood. I became familiar with that smell at college a few years ago, even though I didn’t ever try it. Weed isn’t technically allowed either, but that doesn’t deter those who enjoy it first thing in the morning.

Then there’s my neighbor just a few houses up who prefers his tobacco in a pipe. How often do you see someone with a pipe in their mouth? The smell of burning tobacco wafts up the street as he zips along shirtless in his electric wheelchair, beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

Just when I think smoking has disappeared from our culture, I notice smoke shops in strip malls and impressive cigar selections in liquor stores, which are right alongside the medical marijuana dispensaries. I suppose there are enough smokers out there (and on my block) to keep places like these in business.

I think it’s interesting that I’m always aware of the smell of a cigarette. It’s neither pleasant nor revolting, but distinctive and noticeable.

Posted in Life, teaching

Idolatry and the Dollar Tree

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I asked the class, “So what is idolatry?”

One young lady perked up and exclaimed, “The Dollar Tree?”

It was a priceless moment.

From time to time I teach a middle school Sunday School class. This year, the curriculum takes them through the Old Testament books of 1 and 2 Kings. This morning, we covered 1 Kings 12-14, when Israel divided into the northern and southern kingdoms under Jeroboam and Rehoboam, respectively. When Jeroboam sets up two golden calfs in the north, it’s a repeat of the golden calf episode in Exodus. God’s people tend to make the same mistakes over and over.

It’s a challenge to engage any class of young or old with this particular narrative. Metal and wooden idols seem kind of silly to modern ears. So we have to talk about those thing we fear, love, and trust more than God, which are our idols.

While we have much to learn about idolatry, we’re familiar with Dollar Tree. True, most of the stuff there is junk. But almost everything costs $1.25. Inflation, you know. Between them, Family Dollar and Dollar General, I never feel like I’m more than five minutes away from a discount store. This reality says much about what we value. It’s stuff. It’s the creation rather than the Creator. Once I take a step in that direction, my life drifts further and further away from God, something Paul writes about in Romans 1.

Anyway, because of our discussion this morning, when someone mentions idolatry, I’ll always think of Dollar Tree!

Posted in Life

That is one nasty mattress

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On my walks and drives around the neighborhood, it’s not unusual to see mattresses on the curb for trash pickup. However, I share this one as one of the dirtiest and nastiest I think I’ve ever seen.

It could have been in someone’s garage for a while. Maybe they just never got around to getting rid of it. Mildew grows fast in the humid Florida air. If the house was unoccupied and the power was off, imagine the black mold growing throughout the rest of the house.

I guess it could have been someone’s mattress, but I cringe at the thought. I know mattresses get dirty and accumulate a lot of dust mites and dead skin cells. But this much?

Some friends of mine had a bedbug problem a few months ago. Needless to say, they had to get rid of their mattress and boxspring. They left theirs on the curb, but someone actually took it before the trash guys showed up!

They say you should replace your mattresses every seven to ten years. How old do you think this one was?

Posted in Life

“Honey, I broke the garage door.”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve had this picture on my phone for a while now. I walk by this house a couple of times a week, and am always amazed by this garage door.

First of all, I wonder, “What in the world happened here?” I’m guessing the spring is broken, but why is the door hanging crooked like that? Did a rail break loose inside the garage? Did the wheels come off one of the tracks? I’m not sure how to get a garage door to do this.

Next, I wonder, “How come you haven’t tried to fix it?” At least find a way to lower it so it’s not open like this all the time. An open door is an invitation for critters to come in and squat in the garage.

This same house also had elaborate Halloween decorations on display.

So I couldn’t help but wonder, “If you’ll take the time and effort to decorate your yard, don’t you have a few minutes to try and fix the garage door?”

I’m tempted to assume this is a rental property. If so, I guess the landlord hasn’t been by in a while. I’m thinking that code enforcement hasn’t been by in a while, either.

How would you react if you pressed the button to close the garage door and this happened?