Early morning and so cold.

American Tao -- no. 12

(for Richard "Pop Pop" Cirillo)

Too much is not enough

until the morning after.

Oh, the wild and wooly

days of youth.

The venerable man

stands his ground

not blown about

by the winds

of his time.

He knows that family

is the beginning

and the end.

American Tao -- no. 11

You can drive to work

or take the train

and dream of that

walk in the sun.

Is selling water

in plastic bottles

the irony of the age?

You can live in a house

or in a yurt in the woods

like a wise man

without a mortgage.

Sometimes it's just

talk, talk, talk

but then nothing but

love in the silence.

This is the view from my front door. As you can see, I don't have to go far for beauty; I don't even need to step outside since all I need do is turn to see Cara beside me in bed. This has been an empty nest weekend, quiet and serene, but we miss our children.

American Tao -- No. 10

If only there was a Salvation Army bin

for the detritus in your brain.

And a playground--with swings and monkey

bars--for grown-ups.

And a way to feel the sun on your

face when feeling sad and lonely.

And to raise your children with love

and righteousness.

And to let the nonsense roll

off your back... while taking a break

from yourself when you're driving yourself mad.

So it is said,

"Expectation breeds resentment."

Who said that? A drunk on the mend,

I bet.

Snow day!!!! Something about that--celebrating the snow day--that makes you feel like you haven't quite grown up. Tearing around on the 4-wheeler, sliding and spinning while ostensibly out there to plow the driveway just adds to the feeling. It's a good feeling, not a feeling to fight, unlike those often engendered by grown-up pursuits (like paying bills). I'm just rambling, I know, but how much organization can you expect from a man who has spent the day in his pajamas?

This action photo of Jessie playing Skip Bo is deceptive. I know what you're thinking, she looks so homey playing an innocent card game on a cold winter day. But if she's "homey," it's more in the sense of being a "gangsta." That's right, stone cold killer and she don't like to lose. In this photo, taken just moments ago, she's playing with her unsuspecting friends. But last night, when I took her on, I saw the true colors. Of course, entering the game I was talking trash; after all, I pretty much play games for a living. Be that as it may, she carved me up like a turkey. After one poorly played hand I said, "I guess I shouldn't have done that." You know what she said to console me: "Well, it was pretty dumb."

What's the old man to do?--I just love that girl so much!

American Tao -- no. 9 (for Jake)

Perhaps you will not

always be in a position

to follow your dream.

Put your head down,

pick your way forward,

scratch and claw

when you must.

Money is not real

and a pension can be

a death sentence.

Be your own man.

Be happy at your job.

Be true to your beliefs.

And know that you will

always be my beloved.

I feel a need to honor my sister Alice because she was kind enough to favor me with a comment (even if it was connected to my scary self-portrait). She said that she'd be an everyday reader if I included an upholstery element to my man-shed. Well, no upholstered furniture in there as of yet, but this is the upholstered chair from which I write my blog. I've only told a few people about this blog; nevertheless, the lack of comments can make you feel kind of lonely.

So anyway, Alice is now obsessed with upholstery. I was obsessed with the stock market and now I'm obsessed with frugality. My brother Max is obsessed with some kind of thermal thinga majig. My mother, of course, lives for ballroom dancing. Clearly, mine is a family of strange obsessions. For illustration purposes only I share the following: my mother lived with us for a short time in our big old Victorian house in Machias. She camped out on the third floor and managed to fit all of her stuff up there. When she decided to move to PA, I naturally had to load all of her stuff into a U-Haul. Well, I almost broke my back because she had about a thousand books on the subject of... coping with a bad back. Go figure.

I'm going to go for my "sweat" in the basement because I'm too "spleeny" to go out to the man-shed. In other words, it's cold out there. I know it's cold because my "antediluvian" (Jake's description of his grandfather years ago) father-in-law is again talking about moving to Costa Rica. I have to say publicly that that would be a shame because I'd actually miss the old coot. Pop Pop, you mean a lot to us, so don't go. I mean, maybe we've had our ups and downs, but for the last bunch of years it's been mostly ups and there are things you've done for me for which I will be forever in your debt (and I'm not talking about stolen jeans and flannel shirts).

American Tao -- no. 8

Love is not actually

mysterious; it's right there

all the time, until we

step on it like brutes.

Home and the heart,

mind and clarity,

fighting and making-up,

controlling and letting go,

working and smiling,

all of this,

the soul's union.

The family: a beautiful

basket of creation.

Don't you know

God loves every

inch of you.

One Degree and Windy

Birch

Moss

Lichen

And a hot cup

of coffee near

the woodstove.

What's wrong

with Winter?

This is the back end of our property known as the "heath." A nice, wide-open space for a snowshoe if you can tolerate a bracing wind. I like to think of it as my own private badlands. It feels special to be out there because in the summer it's a marsh better-suited for moose than people. I found that out the hard way when Jake and I were looking to cut a new trail, got caught in a thicket and figured the heath was our surest passage home. I'll tell you what a good son Jake is: he came back out with me the next day to take another crack at charting a new trail. And I'll tell you what an idiot I am: I got us caught in pretty much the same thicket and we had to hack our way back. Well, I'm a dope, but I do appreciate love and devotion.

Thanks Jake.

American Tao -- no. 7

Farms rolling out

into the clouds.

Sustenance for every

last soul. A smile

on the face of God.

You can rest now.

Worries are meaningless

in this land of plenty.

I've got the upper hand now. My wife asked to see my "horror movie" photo; but I told her she'd have to request it like anybody else.

In other blog news, my mother isn't quite ready to commit to being a "follower." Pretends she's not sure how that works--but I know the truth. I joked with Cara yesterday that I would need to call my mother and pretend I had a ballroom dancing blog. That would suck her in. As it turns out, I did mention in my profile that I "dance in the woods." Makes me sound like an unreformed hippie, I know, but what it actually means is that I dance around like a 12-year-old goofball in my "Man-shed" for exercise. No need to feel self-conscious out there. Anyway, my mother told me in an e-mail that so long as I'm dancing in the woods, there's a swing class up at UMM I can join, but I just don't think I could keep up with the old gal.

The night sky as viewed during my post-work snowshoe. People wonder how you can live in a place so remote, but the opportunity to get out into nature on a daily basis is worth more to me than I can describe. I was able to follow my tracks in the snow pretty well, but when it got pitch dark I wore the wind-up lantern Cara got me for Christmas around my neck. I took a self-portrait (which I will post upon request!) and I actually looked like a character from one of those low-budget horror movies.

American Tao -- no. 6

Endless

in the blink

of an eye.

You and me,

our day will come.

While leaves sprout

on trees that have

died and been born

a thousand times.

Poem for Cara from "Poverty is no Disgrace"

Pickup Trucks

Never fall in love with iron

But credit to the woman

who tolerates the man

with a pathological need

to run a trade in used cars

and pickup trucks.

So often, being of the male

persuasion, I've wanted the

freedom to behave stupidly;

but then wonder how come

you didn't apply the brakes?

How come you didn't say:

"What the hell is wrong

with you?"

No, you'd rather rub

that salt into the wound--

hugging me and kissing

me and telling me

you love me so much.

Had a nice ski today on the Machias River with my friend Greg (pictured above). No pictures of this morning's post-storm clean-up, which is too bad because it was a real family affair. Even Jessie had a shovel in her hand (looking mighty cute in her pj's and my coat).

American Tao -- no. 5

You know what Oscar W. said:

"Every saint has a past,

and every sinner has a future."

Wow. If that doesn't explain

it all...

American Tao -- no. 4

I enjoy a deep conversation.

This, I am told, makes me

an unusual man. So I guess

most men just want to stick

to the beer and football.

I don't believe that and,

for the record, I enjoy the

crackle and pop of football

as much as the next guy.

When someone is willing to

share his heartfelt emotion

with you, you have been honored.

The picture of Jessie is from yesterday; Cara this a.m. I'm trying to take a picture in the woods each day to watch the seasons change, etc. We hiked this morning with just our boots, but now it's time to break out the snowshoes.

Snow removal arsenal (powered by Honda) ready to do battle with today's monster storm. Cara and I went for a walk in the woods, then cleared the driveway, which quickly filled back up with snow. That's OK, because I have fun running the plow.

Later today I will post American Tao -- no. 4 so as not to disappoint my multitude of spiritual followers :)

And if that's not enough to draw you back, I'll put up some pictures of my beautiful wife Cara and my Jessie Sweet. (Maybe even a pic of Jake if we can get him out of his cave.)

Perfect beginning to the New Year. I walked in the woods and thanked God for this slice of heaven. I love snow.

American Tao -- no. 3

Don't bother dressing like your boss.

On weekends he's putting on jeans

and a baseball cap and trying

to look more like you.

If you have to worry about

something being stolen, it would

be better if it was already gone.

Do you follow Jesus? I don't

care if the answer is yes or no;

but remember: Jesus found himself

in the desert. He never owned a

home. He was a nomadic man

in sandals.

So imagine you are meeting up

with friends for dinner. As the

conversation goes around in circles--

Chinese or Thai or Mexican--you

alone say nothing. You think,

"Wherever we go I will be happy.

I'm just here for the friends and food."

You know what else? You don't

need alcohol to relax.