Is This Heaven?....No it's Iowa

The line above is from one of my favorite movie "Field of Dreams". It is defenitely not heaven but we have arrived in Iowa. Our trip was fine and without any major incidents. We got to Kathy's parents in Le Claire at about 4:30PM. We went to dinner at Sneaky Pete's in Le Clarie, as always it was great. We are very tired and are now going to bed. Kat and I are up early to play a round of golf then go to the Cornerstone Festival in Bushnell, IL. It's going to be a long but fun day. Kathy is going to help her mom prepare for the July 4th bash they will hosting. Hope all is well and I'll update you on our adventures on Saturday. Later....Ron

Recess

Hear that? That was the bell signaling that it's time for recess, my favorite class. Kathy and I are both finished and don't have to be work until 11 July. Vacation has begun...actually tomorrow, tonight is all about packing and lists. We have to get up at o-dark-thrity to drive to Ft. Walton Beach so we can catch a plane to Chicago. Once we are there we'll pick up a car and drive to Iowa. We are going to stay at Kathy's mom's. Kiel will stay behind until he leaves for the Czech Republic on the 4th of July. But we are really looking forward to coming home and seeing our friends and family. We have alot planned, but as usual we won't even do half of it. I am going to try posting from Kathy's mom's (if she lets me). Hope all is well and I'll post more later. Take Care....Ron

Heard these words earlier today and they have stuck with me all day:

"What can seperate us from the love of Jesus Christ?....It's a mystery that I will not chase."

Something New

In trying to keep this blog semi-interesting I have done something new. For awhile now I have been wanting to create a photo album and link it to our blog. Well...I've finally got around to doing it. You'll notice in the right hand column a new heading called "Photo Albums" and underneath that you'll see a link that says "Family Photos". If you click on that link it will take you to our photo album on Yahoo. At this time there is only one photo album and it is called "New House". As the name implies it contains about 36 pictures of our new home. If you decide to look at the photos, I suggest looking at them in "Slide Show" mode.

I wanted to get a photo album set up and linked to the blog before leave on vacation this Wednesday. It's my hope to load some pictures to the photo album while we are home on vacation. Check out the pictures and let me know what you think. Later...Ron

Life's Too Short To Drink Cheap Beer

I had a huge limb down in my yard this morning. I had to go over to Dad's and borrow his chainsaw to cut it up just to put it in the bed of my truck. I got that done and then had to pick Kat up from a meeting a work. On the way home I was thinking about what I was going to do with the rest of my morning since Kathy was working til noon and then she was going to go get a pedicure and manicure. I decided that since I was already hot and sweaty from clearing the limb, I might as well cut the grass. I normally like to cut the grass in the middle of the week but since we're leaving on vacation Wednesday and I had the time, I figured I might as well do it now. I also like to have a beer after I finish working on the yard. There's just something about being hot and sweaty and drinking a beer (or two) that I enjoy. So I decided I needed to stop by the mini mart a buy a beer to drink once I had finished working on the yard.

As we were driving up Hwy 77 towards our house Kat found a Christian CD that we had been looking for. He put it in and we both started singing to it quiet heartily. As we got near the mini mart this conversation ensued.

Me: "Sorry, but I got to stop singing about Jesus so I can go buy a beer."
Kat: "Ok, cool."
Me: "Do you think he'll mind?"
Kat: "Nahh, you guys are good."
Me: "I've got two bucks on me, so I'll have about 27 cents left - Do you need anything?"
Kat: "Naw, I'm Okay."

I pull into the mini mart, go buy a beer and come back to the truck. Thinking I got a great deal, I proudly show Kat a 32 ounce bottle of Natural Light.

Me: "I believe I bought this based on quantity, not quality. All the 'good' beers were over 2 dollars or were smaller."
Kat: "Wow - that's a lot cheap beer!"
Me: "What?"
Kat: "Yeah, that's some serious redneck beer you got there Dad!"
Me: "Well...it was only a $1.60 and I did get 32 ounces!"
Kat: "Shoot - bottled water is more expensive than that! You know you're drinking cheap beer when water's more expsenive. That's very rednecky dad!"
Me: "What do you mean!"
Kat: "I mean those huge bottles of Natural Light are the kind you see rednecks drinking after they've been four wheeling or hunting racoons. Those bottles are all over the side of the road!"
Me: "Oh..." (slightly embarrassed)
Kat: (realizing that I'm slightly embarrassed) "Maybe it won't be that bad..."
Me: (sensing hope) "Yeah...Maybe if I get really, really hot working in the yard and I get the beer really, really cold I won't notice it's cheap beer."
Kat: "Uhh...sure dad...don't get you're hopes up".

I didn't get my hopes up and it was pretty bad...but it was really, really cold. A beer slushie.

Where Did I Put My.....

This past Friday night we were at my parents and were discussing how forgetful we have become as we have gotten older. I told them that earlier that day I had went home for lunch to make a sandwich. I explained that I got in the refrigerator and got out all the stuff to make my sandwich. I started to make my sandwich and was going to put butter on it but couldn’t find it. I looked on the kitchen counter but I didn’t see it, but I remembered taking it out of the fridge. I went back to the refrigerator and looked again – still no butter. I searched the entire house for about 10 minutes looking for the stupid butter container. I even checked in the bathroom. Why? I don’t know. I went back in the kitchen and went to open the fridge and there it was. It was sitting on top of the fridge just where I left it. I immediately remembered that I put it there because my hands became full getting the other items for my sandwich.

My dad then told of the time that we lived at Tyndall AFB and he went out to clean the windows of his truck. He said he took a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Windex from the kitchen and then went about his task. Later that day Kathy went to get something out the refrigerator. She was very surprised to see the bottle Windex that my dad had been using sitting in the fridge next to the milk. For some reason he put in the fridge when he was finished. Dad’s story reminded me of the time that I recently went to throw something away in the trash. I opened the lid of the garbage can and there sitting on the top trash can were my wallet and keys. Instead of placing them on the counter, I threw them away. Why? Because I’m getting old.

But the best episode of forgetfulness goes to my mom. My mom likes to play bingo. When my mom plays bingo it is no small affair. She will start playing earlier in the afternoon and go until the wee hours of the morning. Less than a year ago my mom went on one her bingo binges. About three o’clock in the morning the phone rings. I don’t know about you but whenever my phone rings in the middle of the night I immediately think the worst. I answered the phone and it was my mom. I could tell by her voice that she seemed a bit shaken. She asked if we had been by the bingo hall with dad to get the truck and I told her no. She went on to explain how her truck was missing and had been ‘stolen’. I told her to hold tight and that I would be right there. I hung up the phone and told Kathy what was going on while I got dressed. I got in my truck and drove about 15 minutes to the bingo hall. As I pulled into the parking lot, I began looking for my mother. As I did, I saw a large vehicle flashing its lights at me. I stopped my truck and this vehicle started coming towards me. It pulled up next to me and I soon realized that it was my mom in her truck. I was a bit puzzled by what was happening. We rolled the windows down and she told me what happened. She said that the bingo hall was fuller than usual that evening and she wasn’t able to park in her normal spot. She had to park further away than normal in a very poorly lit part of the parking lot. When she came out she looked in her normal spot and didn’t see the truck. She also couldn't see the truck in the dark area of the parking lot where she had parked it. So basically she forgot where she had parked her truck. Good one huh? We haven't let her live that one down yet. Getting old is no fun, the forgetfulness is right up with all these new aches and pains I keep discovering every day. Oh well it could be worse....

Man Hands

Ever see the Seinfeld episode called “Man Hands”? It was the one where Jerry was dating this girl and he liked everything about her except that she had the hands of a man. She had these huge man hands complete with thick man fingers and ugly, rigid veins poking out. I'm talking about the kind of hands you see on a construction worker or automobile mechanic. Her hands were not feminine in any fashion and didn’t go with the rest of her body. Seinfeld just couldn’t deal with her hands because they weirded him out. Well…I encountered my own version of “Man Hands” today and it totally freaked me out.

There is a gas station across from my work that has a lunch counter in it. Like many business’s, Friday is our casual dress day. Since its casual day we usually go pickup breakfast sandwiches and bring them back to the office. This lunch counter has the absolute best sausage biscuit’s I’ve ever had, plus they are really cheap. I look forward to getting one every Friday and feel deprived when I don't get one. It’s also important to know that where I work is north of town about 12 miles, so it’s kind of in the boonies. Some would even say that this area has its fair share of red necks. So to some, the gas station and lunch counter would be considered questionable. It is to me, but the biscuit’s are so good that I’m willing to take my chances.

I went in and walked up to the lunch counter and then ‘she’ appeared. For a red neck woman she looked fairly normal (or so I thought). She asked me what I wanted and I told her I wanted the link sausage breakfast biscuit. This place has a glass deli case that they store the food in to keep it warm before it is sold. I didn’t notice anything unusual until she reached in the deli case to get a sausage for my biscuit. That's when I noticed 'them' - her 'Man Hands'. I looked with disbelief into the glass case as she grabbed the sausage with her BARE hands, placed it on the cutting board, cut it in half and placed it on the biscuit. (Where's the Health Department when you need them?) The entire time she is doing this, I can't help but stare at her ‘Man Hands’. Like Seinfeld was, I am now completely weirded out by her hands. I don’t want to stare at them but it’s like a car wreck, I can’t help myself.

She placed my sandwich in a bag and handed it to me. As she handed it to me I made sure we didn’t touch hands. She then walked over to the cash register to check me out. I walked over to the cash register as well. She said that it would be $1.59 so I gave her a $1.75 – actually I set it on the counter so she would pick it up. Again, I was hoping not to have to touch those hands that were bigger and uglier than mine. I wasn’t as lucky when she gave me my change back. Instead of dropping the sixteen cents in my hand, she ‘pushed’ her hand into my and opened her fingers to release the change. When she did this the palms of our hands slammed together and touched. She smiled and said “Thank You”. At this point, I thought I was going to pass out. I could no longer see my hand because it was completely engulfed by hers. Her hands felt like dry, cracked feet. Uggghh. I then got the ‘willies’ through my whole body and stumbled towards the door.

As I headed out the door towards my truck I realized that I now had a dilemma; do I eat the world’s best sausage biscuit that ‘man hands’ has just man handled or do I throw it away and try my luck again next week with the hopes of getting a different server? I thought about this as I drove back to my office. I got back to work and I immediately went to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands with anti-biotic soap until they hurt. I then went to my office and tossed the bag with my sandwich in it on my desk. I sat in my chair and just stared at the bag. My mind kept going back and forth between those thick, meaty hands of hers and the taste of this awesome sandwich. This was a really tough decision and I didn’t know what to do. Now I know for many of you it wouldn’t be a difficult decision. You would simply pick up the bag and throw it in the trash. I wish my mind worked like that. I wish I could detach myself from the emotions that I have concerning food but I can’t. So...as you probably guessed, I sat at my desk and ate my sausage biscuit that man hands had fondled. I simply couldn't help myself. It tasted okay, but I just wish I wouldn't keep burping it up. Tasting it over and over again just keeps reminding me of those hands...

Ceiling Fan

I’m notorious for wrestling with my boys. Anyone who knows me or is familiar with my family knows that my reputation for wrestling with my boys precedes me. When my boys were little, I believe we probably wrestled in some manner every day. And that’s not an exaggeration. We would have the most incredible battles. Sometimes they would dress up in whatever wrestling attire they could make work. They would even have their own entrance music complete with masks and championship belts (pretty sad huh?) Our old house had a huge living room so they would cordon it off and make a wrestling ring out of ace bandages in it. We would even have cage matches. We would put a baby gate up in the doorway to the family room. Whoever could make it over the top of the ‘cage’ first would win. There was no end to my boy’s creativity when it came time to wrestle. My personal favorites were the ‘foreign objects’ they used to hid in their ‘trunks’ or around the ‘ring’. It would be anything from a Hot-Wheels car stuffed in their shorts to a strategically placed whiffel ball bat hidden under the couch. They would use anything thing that they could to try gain the advantage over me and win the match.

Now as they get older we still wrestle, but not nearly as much as we used to. It’s not as much fun when the kids can put up a legitimate fight. I liked it better when I could dominate and control the matches. Now I can’t, especially when they decide to double team the old man. I simply get an old fashioned butt kicking. No doubt that I deserve it and I expect no sympathy (Lana). And after you read, there is no doubt that you’ll agree that I did/do need my butt kicked for what I’ve done. But I’m just at the age where I’m afraid of getting seriously injured. And believe me; we have had our share of injuries. Without a doubt, the worst injury by far was the ceiling fan. I got in a lot of trouble with this one. Actually I still think I’m in trouble over this one.

It was early Saturday morning and Katlin and I were watching TV in our bedroom. Kat was probably about six or seven years old at the time. As often happened, we would be lying on the bed watching TV and we would start wrestling. We would play “King of the Bed”, the object being to keep the other guy off the bed. From there it turned into a full-on fight for survival. Now we when fought we prided ourselves on being able to ‘put moves’ on the other guys. Not just beating on each other but proving to the other that we indeed had skills. I decided I wanted to put a move on Katlin. Kat and I were fighting and he was on the floor next to the bed. I sat on the side of the bed and leaned over to pick him up. This is where things go horribly wrong. I picked him up and decided to suplex him. This is where I lift him up over my head and he lands on his back on the bed. Unfortunately for Katlin, I forgot that he had grown and that there was a ceiling fan above our bed. When I executed my move I threw Kat feet first into the globes on the ceiling fan. Fortunately he had socks on it could have been much worse. But it did cut the bottom of his right foot. I’ll spare you the gory details but it was a pretty bad gash. It was so bad that I immediately realized that he needed to go to the emergency room.

As luck would have it, Kathy was not home at the time, she was at a ladies retreat on the beach that our old church was hosting. She was going to be home later that afternoon and then we were all supposed to go to Tallahassee to see ice hockey. I rushed Kat to the emergency room and they began working on him. This was not just a cut on the bottom of his foot but an actual chunk of flesh was missing. In order to fix this they had to put him under using general anesthesia. Not good. Now I had to explain to the hospital what happened thinking all the time that child services was going to come take my child away. But then I became fearful of telling my wife what happened. We didn’t have cell phones back then so I had to call the hotel where the retreat was being held and they had to track her down. I called my wife and explained to her what I had done to her child and where we were at. Telling your wife that you have screwed up royally and hurt her youngest child is not an easy thing to do. It was one of the most embarrassing and difficult things I’ve ever had to do. I also don't think Kathy particularly liked telling all the ladies at the retreat that she needed to leave because her bone-headed husband tossed her child into the ceiling fan. The looks I got from those ladies the following Sunday were downright nasty. If looks could kill I would have been dead fifty times over. None of them talked to me for a month. Ever piss off fifty 'church ladies'? Not a wise thing to do. I was defiently on the outside looking in.

After working on Katlin for quite awhile the doctors realized they could not sew his foot up because there was really nothing to sew. It would just have to heal naturally. They put a huge bandage on the bottom of Kat’s foot. Problem was that it prevented his foot from draining properly. Because of this the bottom of his foot became one huge blood blister. Every time his little heart would beat the bottom of his foot would thump. In the middle of the night we had to take him back to the emergency room and have it looked at again. The doctors realized what they had done and drained his foot, finally giving Kat some relief from the pain. Ultimately, his foot healed without any problems and Kat now has a nasty scar on the bottom of his foot to show for it. As you can imagine, I felt incredibly guilty and terrible for a really, really long time afterwards (which I should of). For the longest time afterwards I would not wrestle with the boys because I was afraid of hurting them. That is until Kat’s foot got better and he enlisted help from his brother to launch a full scale sneak attack on me to get retribution for what I had done. I deserved it and I took my punishment….big-time.

No Omelete For You!

Tropical Storm Arelene was a bust - which is a good thing. A little wind and a fair amount of rain. Other than that it was an excuse to stay home and watch DVD's all day. We slept in and then watched two movies. We were slugs. Kathy said she was going to make omeletes at about 10:00AM - it's now about 5:30PM and still no omelete!

Ooops - I'm busted. Kathy caught me in the middle of typing this. And said in a VERY colorful way that there was 'No Omelete for You!' - that's not exactly how she said it but I think you get the point. Looks like I'm taking her out to dinner...again...I'm thinking breakfast-dinner.

Same Song, Second Verse

Well it's that time again...hurricane season that is. And believe it our not we have our first storm of the season.....Tropical Storm Arlene. As luck would have it, Arlene is coming our way. She is expected to make landfall somewhere between here and Pensacola within the next 24 hours. However, this storm is primarly a 'rain event' with most of the rain coming in well before she makes landfall. This basically means crappy weather weekend beginning now. They are predicting between 5 to 10 inches of rain. There is a possiblity that Arlene could become a minimal hurricane. So we'll keep an eye on her. Need to go out and get something to eat and grab a DVD to watch before the rains come. Later.

Snake

So we're in my office today - me and two other guys. We all finish looking at my computer screen and wrap up our conversation. As one of the guys turns to walk out my office he goes "Oh Sh*t! - Ron did you know you had a snake in your office?" At first I thought he was teasing but I got up and looked on the other side of my desk and there was a snake. Again I thought it was joke cause it didn't move but then it slithered and slipped it's tounge out. It was about two feet long and thin - it was pretty young. Then the other guy goes "Hey, I believe that's a baby rattler!" Right about then one of the production guys walks by and says "Hey! A baby rattle snake!" He then quickly walks up behind the snake and grabs it from behind. "This one won't hurt cha' - he's just a baby!" This one? What about the other ones I don't know about? After they all left (including the snake), I sat in my office and tried to figure out how a baby rattle snake got in my office. After about 20 minutes, I discoverd a hole about the size of a silver dollar behind my book case. I'd never seen it before and didn't know it was there. I called maintenance and we realized that he (or they) must be up in the ceiling and came down the wall and out through the wall. Comforting huh? The rest of the day I was afraid to open any of my desk drawers! I just kind poked at things waiting for something to hiss at me. Anyhow I did the manly thing and wadded up a bunch of paper and stuffed it in the snake hole. So how was your day?

Twenty

I’ve never seen a lightning storm like it – not before or since. This wasn’t your typical electrical storm. No flashes of lightning just long bolts that looked liked a spider’s web when they lit up the evening sky. What made this storm unique were the frequency of the bolts and the duration of the storm. The long strands of lightning would run from one end of the sky to the other. And as soon as one bolt finished running across the sky, another one would begin. This light show lasted for many hours – it didn’t just pass through but it lingered so all who saw it knew something special was in the works.

And that’s how I felt; to me this wasn’t just an electrical storm, it was a sign. A sign that something so incredible had just occurred that even nature couldn’t contain itself. And something incredible did just happen; my first child had just been born. I’ve always felt that the storm was a sign from God and that he was celebrating my child’s birth with me. You probably think I’m crazy when I say that but I don’t care. I don’t believe in coincidence – I just don’t. I don’t believe this storm just happened right after my son was born. To me it was more than that – this night was special. It was a night unlike any other night. It was night that has since become party of our family folklore.

We were in the Air Force and we’re stationed at Scott AFB in Illinois. Scott is located about 30 miles of St. Louis, Missouri. We had just moved to Scott about a month before and didn’t know anyone except for my new boss. My new boss’s wife was pregnant as well. Both his wife and Kathy were ready to deliver at any time. Actually both of them were past their expected due dates. Being guys, (which often means not being very bright) we decided to take these two overly pregnant women to dinner. Not only dinner but to eat spicy Mexican food. As soon as we sat at our table my wife told our sever “Give me a Margarita cause I’m gonna have this baby tonight”. I was kind of surprised because my wife hadn’t drank during her entire pregnancy. But before I could say anything she looked at me and I saw the look in her eyes that said ‘Don’t question me on this’. And I didn’t. She was right and the Margarita worked. We went home after dinner and soon thereafter she went into labor. Eighteen hours of labor later at 6:28PM on June, 2nd 1985 – Kiel Warren Cravatta was born. (That’s right - exactly 20 years ago today).

The birth went without any problems but the labor had been long and tiring. Afterwards Kathy was very tired and very hungry. Actually Kathy was starving. So much so that she asked me to go get her something to eat. Now when she asked this I initially thought she meant from a vending machine or from the hospital cafeteria. I was mistaken she meant for me to drive into town and get her something. She was actually more specific and said she wanted a roast beef sandwich from Arby’s. When she said this and I just put on a generic smile. The nearest Arby’s was 20 miles away and I could hear the beginning rumbles of thunder outside the hospital room. I thought to myself that “This woman’s lucky she had just given birth to my child or I would tell her what to do with her Arby’s roast beef sandwich.”

Being a fairly obedient husband I obliged her request. I went to the car and began my 20 mile journey for her sandwich. As I left the Air Force Base the storm began. I drove the 20 miles in awe and wonder – thinking about the birth of my son and thinking about the incredible storm I was in the midst of. I pulled into Arby’s and I was a mess – I had never cried because I was happy before. I gathered my composure made my way into Arby’s and it was packed out. It seemed that everyone had pulled over where ever they could to escape the storm. I stood in line for what seemed like eternity. I finally got Kathy’s food and left. The storm was now much worse than before – the rain was now coming down in sheets, the kind where you can’t see when you’re driving. I inched my way back to the base and hospital. I was now soaked to the bone. As I entered my wife’s hospital room, I was quite proud of myself for braving the elements and fulfilling my wife’s request.

I went to speak but I couldn’t. For the first time since his birth, I saw my wife and son together. My wife looked up from trying to nurse our son and said “Hi Daddy.” I stood in the doorway and swallowed the lump in my throat. I walked over and handed my wife her sandwich. Unconsciously she took her sandwich from the wrapper. She took one bite of it and said…”Ugghh…I’m not hungry anymore.” She then threw the sandwich, wrapper and bag in the trash can next to her bed! I stood there in total disbelief - I couldn’t believe she just did that. I wanted to get mad but I couldn’t. Kathy apologized and then said the most profound thing she has ever said. She grabbed my hand and said "Let’s just enjoy and love our son.” And that’s what we’ve been doing ever since.

Happy 20th Birthday Kiel! We Love You!