Category: Stories

Posted in Stories

I was busy

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eyestetix Studio on Unsplash

I went through my Google calendar to remember all that happened in 2024. I was pretty busy.

We made three trips to Rowlett, Texas (a western suburb of Dallas) last year. We returned from a post-Christmas trip on January 1. We spent holy week and Easter with them March 26 through April 2. And then we made a fall trip November 6-11. Each trip included a stay in a nice Airbnb condo.

We spent a lot of time at grandsons’ soccer and baseball games. The younger grandson played soccer in the spring and machine-pitch baseball in the fall. He did really well and scored a lot of goals in the spring, and hit well in the fall. Unfortunately, we sat and watched a lot of games in cold, windy drizzle in the fall. Yuk.

The older grandson (age 9) had a really good spring machine-pitch baseball season, and played on a kid-pitch travel team in the fall. He learned a lot and really improved with good coaching and lots of practice with his dad.

On January 2 we picked up our Great Dane puppy, Willow, from a breeder in Ocala, Florida. She was about ten pounds at the time. By the end of the year, she was 110. Yeah, that’s a big puppy! I thought, “Well, when she’s a year old, we’ll switch her to adult dog food.” Nope. They grow up until 18 to 24 months. And you know what? She looks a little skinny. I just upped her daily food to 4-1/2 cups of large breed puppy food twice a day. Yeah, she’s got some growing to do.

I stepped out of retirement to pastorally officiate at three memorial services last year. They were all folks I had known for many years. Sweet memories on sad days.

The big trip this past year was to Hawaii in July. A gracious friend who owns a house on the big island let us stay for nine nights. We explored green and black sand beaches, coffee, macadamia, and chocolate farms. A luau and an amazing helicopter ride over the active volcanoes made my 67th birthday extra-special. We enjoyed running around in a rental Jeep, too! Best birthday ever!

Along the way, I wrote 367 blog posts, taught middle school Sunday School, started as an online Bible Study Fellowship leader, sold a whole bunch of stuff we didn’t need on eBay, did a lot of walking with the dogs, worked out in the garage, and read thirty-one books.

Posted in Stories

The aisle seat

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Suhyeon Choi on Unsplash

With my boarding pass in hand, I kind of smiled and said, “I think you’re in my seat.”

The woman’s confused look turned into annoyance when I explained, “I’m in seat C; A is the window seat.”

“You mean I have to sit by the window?”

“You don’t like the window seat?”

When she shook her head, I said, “Okay, I’ll take the window seat.”

Once I settled into my seat, my wife mouthed, “I can’t believe you did that!”

A few days ago, I had used some of our accumulated airline miles to upgrade our seats to a comfort plus row where we were across the aisle from each other. After five hours from Hawaii to Los Angeles, a little extra room would be nice on the next flight home.

I shrugged and texted her, “I thought I should be nice.”

After takeoff, I folded down my tray table and did a little bit of journaling. I glanced up when a bump and an “Ow!” came from the aisle seat. The beverage cart had slammed her funny bone in just the right agonizing spot. I tried to keep a straight face as I got back to my writing.

The sound of pulled-back cellophane from the aisle seat was interrupted by a frantic, “Ew!” The fourteen dollar fruit and cheese plate wasn’t as fresh as advertised, featuring fuzzy blue mold and a little insect. Her sudden recoil soaked her lap with a diet soda. I was able to muffle a chuckle.

When my eyelids got heavy, I put my seat back and dozed off for a few minutes. Aisle-seat’s mother, in the center seat, jostled me, trying to adjust the reading lights and air blower. Neither one for the aisle seat worked. And for some reason, that seat wouldn’t recline.

I didn’t even try to hide my grin as I closed my eyes.

The first half of this story is true. The second half may have been a dream.

Posted in Stories

“There’s a pig.”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We decided to take the dogs out on a different route for their daily walk today. A different loop through a nearby neighborhood would give us a new selection of homes and landscaping to check out.

Walking along a busy road on the way to the loop, my wife stopped and said, “There’s a pig.” Her words didn’t immediately register, but I paused to look my left and sure enough, a pig was rooting around in a backyard.

While our city prohibits most farm animals, Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs are classified and allowed as pets. This guy was a big guy, a lot larger than others I’ve seen. He looked happy, but the yard and the house were a mess. Maybe that’s why the city has a lot of rules about animals.

It’s been twenty-eight years since we lived in Iowa. That’s where this city boy learned most of what he knows about farming. In Iowa, drive time radio was all about weather and farm futures. Back then, market-ready pigs grew to 250 pounds in 250 days. Hog farming and pork production was a big deal.

Here in Florida, though, wild hogs are a nuisance and pot-bellied pigs are a novelty and good for a laugh.

Posted in Stories

Dear supersized rubber duckie: you’ve got my attention

Posted on by William Douthwaite

So I’m driving down US 1 on my way home from St. Augustine, when I see this monster inflatable. I could’t help but grab a quick picture on my way back. I’m not looking for a hot tub and really don’t have anywhere to put one, but I really wanted to stop here just because of the rubber duck.

You can send me direct mail. I’ll take it right from the mailbox to the recycling bin. You can send me an email. It’ll go right to my spam. You can try to call or message me. I won’t answer your call. I’ll scroll right by your ad on social media. You can come knock on my door. I won’t even open the door to say, “No, thank you.”

But put a huge inflatable yellow rubber duck alongside of the road, and suddenly I’m interested. You’ve got my attention. I had to take a picture. And when I’m interested in getting a hot tub, you’ll probably be the first place I think of.

There is a marketing lesson in here somewhere. The visual, the outrageous, and the humorous makes for effective advertising. This world is way to serious. Give me a reason to smile, and I’ll little to your pitch. Fill up my mailbox, my newsfeed, or my inbox, and you’re nothing more than spam to me.

Give me something that makes me laugh. Or makes me say, “Whoa.” Or causes me to reach for my camera to get a picture. That’s how you get my attention.

Posted in Stories

Aisles and aisles of Valentines

Posted on by William Douthwaite

This Valentine’s aisle in Walmart is impressive. And it’s not the only one. there are three more like it, stocked with baskets, stuffed animals, heart-shaped balloons, t-shirts, hats, cards, socks, centerpieces, and just about anything you can think of.

How much money is spent on Valentine’s day? The National Retail Federation reports Americans will spend around $25.8 billion this year. Of course we spend more on Christmas, Easter, and Mother’s day, but that is an impressive number.

When did this holiday become a commercial success? When I was growing up, it was mostly cheap little valentines we gave to class mates at school and the little candy hearts with cute saying printed on them. I think my dad used to give my mom a big box of chocolates, which we gladly helped her consume. But that’s about it.

We spend most of our valentine money on cards and candy for our grandchildren, along with treats and small toys. They have the most fun with the holiday.

Posted in Bloganuary, Stories

Flipping back and forth between the past and the future

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Daily writing prompt
Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?
View all responses

That’s a great question. I want to say I think more about the future. After all, who wants to be mired in the past? But in reality, I’ll bet I spend more time thinking about the past.

My daily journaling/writing habit is to blame. Early each morning, I jot down what happened the day before, and then lay out the things I want to or need to do today. At that instant, I’m balanced between the past and the future. I try to come up with a list of ten things I could write about for my blog. These ideas come from the past, whether it’s something that made me laugh yesterday or a flashback from my childhood. The people I think about are ones I’ve talked to or done things with, not those I’ve yet to meet. I smile at photos on my phone that I took yesterday, moments from the past.

But then those thoughts will be interrupted by the future as I think of and jot down things I need to do, stuff I need to purchase, or people I need to talk to. A quick check of email alerts me to upcoming events I add to my calendar. A voice from the other room reminds me of our upcoming departure time. The future finds a way to elbow its way into my thoughts.

Conversations over morning coffee or a meal usually begin in the past. But they never stay there for long. How was your day? How did you sleep? How was your appointment? Did you remember to call him? Oops, no, I forgot. I’ll do it today. (Hello, future. You made it.) What do you want to do today? If you go to the store, don’t forget to get some of this and one of that. And just like that, future takes the reins of our thoughts.

Because of this prompt, I’ll be more aware of my thoughts as they flip from the past to the future and back again. What should I write about?” (Future) I’ll write about what happened yesterday. (Past) And then I’ll go get something to eat. (Future)

I believe the real challenge is to think about the present. To notice, savor, and remember the moment. Don’t let the past or the future crowd out the experience of right now.

Posted in Stories

Hey, nice head of hair

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The self-checkout line at Walmart was long, winding back on itself. I wasn’t in hurry, so I enjoyed a little people and cart watching.

A voice in the line next to me exclaimed, “Hey, I like that head of hair!” I looked up and saw a thick gray mop like mine. I returned the compliment, “I like yours, too.” He was about my age and height, in good shape, wearing a back brace, earphones in, chatting it up with other shoppers. His hair is pretty good, better than most guys our age, but mine is fuller and thicker.

If there’s one thing my family has a lot of, it’s hair. My dad lost most of his, but the rest of us inherited thick dark brown hair from my mom, which we passed along to our kids and many of the grandchildren.

The gray appeared in my thirties, salt and pepper through my forties, and took over by the time I was fifty. It hasn’t started thinning out yet.

As every barber and stylist tries to run a comb through my hair, they comment, “Wow, that’s thick.” It’s like a snow storm when they start thinning it out. When the haircut is done, I feel a couple of pounds lighter.

When my dermatologist is checking me out head to toe, she laughs when she runs her fingers along my scalp, “No problems up here. The sun can’t get through this!”

My new Walmart acquaintance told me his hair started going gray when he was sixteen. It started in the back, a circular patch on the back of his head. Mine uniformly appeared over time until I had that all-over head of hair and beard.

Posted in Stories

Twelve Spies

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“There must be a winery around here.”

We had just finished hiking a little piece of the Appalachian Trail and a nice glass of red on a cool, sunny, fall afternoon seemed appropriate. I pulled into a scenic overlook and found a better cell signal. There were many wineries to choose from nearby, but most were closed on Wednesdays.

Ah, here’s one: Twelve Spies Vineyards in Rabun Gap, GA. I didn’t think much about the name. Twenty minutes away. “We’ll-behaved dogs welcome.” Let’s go check it out.

It was a small place surrounded by lots and lots of unoccupied picnic tables and beautiful mountain views. We and the person behind the counter were the only ones there.

She welcomed us and offered us a tasting. We decided to just get a couple of glasses. I had a merlot and Lisa chose a dry red blend. A pack of salami, cheese, and crackers, plus a couple of chocolate truffles and we were all set.

As we sat and enjoyed the afternoon, I took a close look at my glass. It was etched with a line drawing of two men carrying a huge bunch of grapes on a pole between them, captioned “Numbers 13:33.”

I get it! When Moses sent twelve spies into Canaan, they brought back a giant cluster of grapes to show everyone what a bountiful land was just across the Jordan River.

What a great name for a vineyard. How many folks would understand the story behind the name? Well, here in the Bible Belt, where you pass a church every half-mile, probably quite a few get it.

Posted in Life, Stories

The case of the missing package

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The message caught me completely by surprise. “Have not received. Tracking shows still in Florida.”

I sold a used Diaper Genie with a few extra supplies on eBay. I had packed it up and shipped it out on a Thursday with the promise of delivery to the buyer in South Carolina by Monday.

When I checked the tracking number, sure enough, the package had been sitting in Jacksonville for a week. How could that be?

I used a third party shipper, so I went to their website to see if I could get more information. Sure enough, I found this gem of a notification.

How does that happen? How does merchandise just disappear from a box in a truck? Was this an inside job? But then, why would anyone steal a used diaper bucket?

Here’s what I think happened. I think someone tossed the box a little too aggressively, it hit the ground and broke open, spilling the contents. No one wanted to repack it, so they just threw it in the trash and reported it missing. Problem solved. Let insurance handle it.

I will be able to file a claim and get my money back. I just have to send a bunch of info to my shipper.

The Diaper Genie had been sitting in the back of a closet for over a year. No one in my family wanted it, so I asked and got twenty bucks for it. When I went to pack it up, I discovered it still had some used diapers in it! Yes, I wrapped them up and threw them away. But if I knew someone was going to steal it, I would have left them in there!