Superhero Wednesday: Workplace Huzzah!!

“We’re half way there…”

An Ode To Team Efforts
Many such Kudos by those have been won. 

They’ve garnered the “Prize of the Up-Turned Thumb”. 

When from the rising up to the setting sun, 

All who’ve partaken well 

can be said also to have well done.



Xtian Haiku: Memories on a Shelf


Worlds of adventure

Mom and dad in the front room

Journeys of the mind.


This is all I have left of the hundreds of books that lined the bookshelves of my parents home. I’m sad to say that because we have so many of our own and a total of seven bookshelves throughout our home, when my mom passed in April of 2013 we could only keep a few. I had to decide which books meant the most to me and spoke most clearly of my parents love for reading, their favorite authors, the genre that most accurately reflected their styles and tastes, or at least what I remembered them to be.

It’s fair to say that they were readers of a variety of books, mostly fiction with an historical anchor. They loved Clavell, and Michener, and LeCarre, and Robert Ludlum’s ‘Jason Bourne’. My mom and dad did read Lustbader’s version, but they pined for the ‘real thing’ after the death of the original author of the original trilogy. They would have hated the movies had they stumbled into a theater to watch them. They also liked Ken Follett, whom they posthumously introduced to my wife in the form of one of their books that we brought home. His Pillars of the Earth started her own love for the author and has led to us buying and reading others of his since. Mom and dad, were readers. They loved the adventures that stories and books contain, ready to sweep us off into adventures and high stakes intrigue between their covers and at the turn of every page. 

Yesterday passed the seventh anniversary of my father’s passing in 2010 and the things I remember about him have mostly to do with his books and reading. I carried to work with me his Zippo lighter and wore the watch mom gave me for Christmas many years ago. But among all the stuff and things that are still scattered around the house reminding me of them, in have memories of them on my shelf that I can pick up and retrace their steps in my own as I read what they read. I can hear their voices, see their faces as they were buried in their pages and consumed in the reading of these books, now on my shelf that were once in their hearts. And as I do, both the stories and my parents come alive again.

We miss you mom and dad. But we have your memories on a shelf and in our hearts. As long as we do, you will always live in our home. 


Tie Tuesday: K-State Birthday Edition 

This one is late… sue me.

This is the other one of my birthday ties that my wife bought me. Ain’t it grand?

Our household is a two college home. She’s an ASU grad and I’m a Kansas State Wildcat, sadly never finished. But I definitely represent my State, Teams and favorite school. 

Hope you enjoyed the day. I’m beat dead tired after a long day at work. 

What’s for dinner, Uncle Kia?

Vegan Grilled Cheese, that’s what…

  • Field Roast Chao Cheese
  • On sesame seed Ezekiel sprouted grain Bread
  • And a mixed green salad with balsamic dressing.
  • And a couple of quarter sliced dill pickles.

Totally Vegan ‘Nonkiller’ killer dinner after a long Monday. Awesome.



For TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – Mug

((Reposted 6/18/17 for a Father’s Day))

My ‘Late’ Offering 


For some reason, TJ’s wonderful Blog dropped from my Reader. I looked and it had dropped from my Followed Blogs as well. My apologies, but this meant that I did not see the Challenge for last Monday and thus did not prepare my submission, “je suis désolé” 

My Mugs

One my Father gave

the other I gave to him.

The calf was his dad’s.


I’ve been recently enamored with DE Safety Razor Shaving.  My ‘mug’, the one I got from Dad, is pretty sensitive and I want to protect it from nasty chemicals and ingredients in those spray cans full of instant shave cream as well as the damage that multi-blade cartridges can do to it.

About 2 and a half years ago, I went to a DE Safety Razor for Economy, Ecology and ended up enjoying the Experience of a close shave.  Like my earlier post with the same picture expressed, I even picked up a new safety Razor, Brush and Cream at The Art of Shaving in the mall nearby. I spent WAYYY too much, but I guess I could consider it an early Birthday Gift to myself.

Of course I don’t have the courage yet to try these…

But maybe one day 😉

Enjoy the day and “Have a great shave, have a great day”


Just a pipe dream

I was with my dad, or rather… He was with me. He was showing me his pipe and teaching me to smoke it like he did so long ago when I was just a tyke. 

A smooth short sip of sweet smelling smoke from an old small wooden bowl. Did not inhale, just blew out the pleasant, relaxing draw and enjoyed the aroma that soon reminded me of my dad. 

Then he was gone again, slowly disapated like the fading memory of that last wisp of heaven. But he was here, I know it. I felt his presence. I heard his voice. 

It was just a pipe dream. He’s been gone for 7yrs this June. I miss him.


Sweet Dreams of dad

I had a dream last night 

I was going thru my dads stuff and tool boxes. He’s been gone 6 years now. Everywhere I looked Stuffed in between crevasses here and there…

Was candy. 

And yes, I Snickered a little in my sleep. It was funny I guess. The things we think about when we’re not thinking. 


My Journey pt 8: Invitation Declined… (the first cracks in my shell appear)

He was my Dad… Happy Father’s Day

(Of the post I did on Gene Wilder’s passing)

AUGUST 30, 2016 AT 5:25 AM
“An amazing life !! Sorry to see not one word about God…” –bruce

I asked myself, “is it really out of concern or just opportunity?”

The year was 2010. My dad, age 72, was lying in a hospital bed gasping for breath, in what is commonly called “the death rattle”, in the last moments of his life here on earth. 

His wife of 50 years, myself and my wife of five years, his daughter, my sister, and my twin brother, both having recently flown in from out of state for what we all feared but had expected for years would eventually happen. Her husband, our father was dying. (We would lose my mom and brother both since then)

With his earthly family surrounding him, on Father’s day no less, he was making the most important transition in life… death was coming, and he was afraid. 

Me? Yeah, I guess I was afraid too. 

For him and for what it would mean for our family, my mom, my wife and I in the coming months and maybe years that she would have left as she started the inevitable decline to follow her husband, my father, into “… that dark night”. But I was also afraid and confused because you see, my dad wasn’t a Christian.

At that time, I was still a Christian. I was still very much the ‘Disciple of Jesus’ even though by this time in our walk, we had moved to a new home a year earlier and begun fellowship in a church very different from the ones we had known. And yet I had maintained contact with some of ‘my guys’ from a previous church. Guys that I had discipled into closer walk and relationship with Jesus. Some still single from our Singles Fellowship, others now married with wives and families of their own. 

“Can I come share Jesus and pray with your dad?”

My friend James was one of those who had married a wonderful Ukrainian woman with two teenage daughters, Instant family, in his forties. He was very devoted and bold for Jesus… Bruce here would have got on well with James.

When he asked me if he could come to the hospital and inject himself and his Faith… my Faith too… into our family’s tragedy and impending loss, I was dumbstruck with the question above. “Is it really out of concern for our family, my dad’s condition, his eternal destiny…” or was it more than that?

I said no.

I don’t think I was rude or short, but I declined politely and told him that my dad had refused the Gospel offer of salvation thru Jesus Christ on many occasions and now at the time of his death, I didn’t think it was respectful for someone not from the family to insert themselves. I’m sure I didn’t include the last part for James, but I know for certain that was my feeling and thought at the time.

My dad had become my second best friend in the world, I guess with the exception of my wife of course, since moving to Arizona after the Army in 1988.

Like father, like son

He was the Best Man at my wedding just 5 years before, shaky and frail, hardly able to stand for the long AOG wedding service, but there he “stood” for me.

In the intervening years of my various ministries and services in churches we attended, he didn’t always agree with their doctrine or teachings, but he always believed in me. He loved me and was proud of the man I’d become. And he loved my wife. He said so all the time. 

I told him once after he complimented her…

“Yeah dad, I done good”

His response?

“You done good, but she did better”

Yup, My dad loved me and was proud of the man I’d become. I’m as much like him as I could imagine. My dad was loving, compassionate, self educated and an intelligent life long reader of both books of all kinds, but also people. But not Christian. 

My ‘No’ became a Yes… to Truth

I started in that hospital, later in that hospice room, trying to reconcile the thoughts of my dad spending eternity in Hell, or at least without Hope in darkness without the Presence of God.

I didn’t know it at the time, and if you had asked me later I wouldn’t have been able to pin it down, but my Journey away from Christ and Christianity started there with a “No”, and with respecting my father’s dignity and individuality. 

Seeds and Cornerstones 

It would be for a few more years and heartbreaks till we came face to face with where we are now, but with the same phrase we started our marriage prep with “we’re on a Journey”.

And the journey continues…