Yard Work Man...And The Case Of The Missing Airpod Vol 2: Conclusion

 My reaction to the potential loss of one airpod fell somewhere between mild panic and frustration. Since I use my airpods mostly for podcasts, and usually only have one in at a time, having only the right side isn't the worst thing. Still...

It would suck having to replace them.

I found when there's something I don't know, I pull up a quick internet search. Turns out, Apple has a way to find lost airpods, iPads, computers. It's call the Find My app. 

A glimmer of light.

I turned on the app and tried following the instructions. I walked around my backyard with my phone close to the ground. I made one tour of the yard...nothing. I took a second turn...nothing. I even went to the bag of weeds we gathered and held my phone close and I moved the bag back and forth. 

Nothing.

Bummer.

I wondered if I was operating the app correctly. After all, I had the other airpod in my pocket and it wasn't finding that one. A thought kept returning to my mind...the lawnmower chewed it up and it was gone. Dejected, I went inside and powered up my laptop so do a more in depth search. I found out my laptop has the Find My app, too. I turned it on and it gave me the same instructions that I found on my phone, and I got the same result.

Since I couldn't figure out how the Find My app didn't seem to find my other airpod, I hit the Bluetooth on the laptop and something interesting happened...it showed only one airpod and the airpod was at 50% battery.

It found the left-side one, the lost one. Finally, a bit of good news. It wasn't destroyed--it was out there, somewhere in the backyard.

I renewed my search. I went around the yard, phone in hand. It eluded me. I returned to the computer to check and noticed the battery for the airpod kept falling, which meant, I was running out of time. The longer the airpod was paired with my computer, the more energy it took. If I didn't find it quick, it'd most likely be lost forever.

One last search. I checked where we had put down fabric and where soon gravel would cover. Something changed on the phone...a slight change, but a change. I stopped and lowered the phone. That's when I heard it...a steady "beep beep beep." I moved the phone in one direction, the beeping stopped. I moved it back and it picked up again. I moved the fabric, dug a few scoops of dirt, and there it was.

Success.

Personally, I thought it was gone forever. I know it's a small thing--literally the airpod and the fact that it was lost--but finding it made my day. Hopefully, in the future I won't have to go through that again.

Yard Work Man...And The Case Of The Missing Airpod Vol 1

"The morning's always better," at least, that's what I've been told. I'd say they're right, but that means I'd have to admit they're right and I'm not ready to do that, at least...

Not yet.

The season change brings other changes, too. We had a free Saturday morning last weekend and since it wasn't snowing or raining, it meant only one thing...yard work. I started early, going into the garage, putting on my "gardening shoes," my work gloves, my large-brimmed hat...and the last part of the wardrobe, an airpod--not both, but just the left one. Perfect for catching up on missed podcasts.

The morning goal: clear the ground and lay down fabric.

We bought the good stuff, not like that cheap fabric we tried last fall--we'll never make that mistake again. As mornings go, it was almost perfect, temperatures in the mid-50s, a light breeze. With stories in my left ear, nature in my right, things were going well.

My wife joined me a little later. I had pulled weeds and moved some of the rocks, but I needed her to finish the job. Together we jumped right in. I only had a few minutes on the current podcast so I took out my phone, stopped the broadcast, and put the phone back and went to work.

Together we finished clearing the ground and putting down the fabric. It looks great. Something that needed doing was the lawn so I mowed it, then got out the edger to tackle the redwood-sized grass circling the yard. It took a while, but glad I did it, and when I turned off the edger for the last time, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. That's when I reached up to my left ear to retrieve the airpod, and...

Nothing.

No biggie. I'll just dig into my pant's pocket, get the airpod where I put it, and stick it back into my ear to finish the podcast.

I checked one pocket--not there. Not to worry, it's in another. Checked another one...nope. Now I'm a little nervous. I quickly check every pocket and the airpod's not there.

It's somewhere in the yard, finding it is going to be tough. Then, an even worse thought hits me. What if the lawnmower pulverized it?

Now I'm bummed.

Tomorrow, I'll finish the Yard Work Man and the Case of the Missing Airpod.

Beautiful...But It's A Pain, Too

 Even though it's raining outside and we're lacking for trees, if I stepped away from the house right now, I can see definite beauty...so much beauty. Spring is here and things are busting out all over, namely flowers and tree blossoms. Of course, if I step outside my house right now, I might not be able to see much.

It's those darn allergies.

Like many, I have seasonal allergies, so much so, I'm glad I work from home. 

All my life I've dealt with allergies. I have them worse than some, not as bad as others. Everyone with allergies deals with them differently. Me? I sit at home being unable to see well until my body either adapts to the things affecting me, or the things affecting me disappear.I

t's that time of the year.

The fact that the pollen and other things hit me so hard is bad, but it's also a bummer that I don't look forward to spring. So many people--I'll bet a majority--if asked would say spring is their favorite season of the year. It makes sense--spring is incredible. The snows have melted, you can go outside without a coat or jacket, you can do things you couldn't do when the world is covered in white.

In a few days, my eyes won't itch and burn and things will improve. Allergies will pop up over time for the next couple of months, but it'll be nothing like what I'm going through now. Another wave will hit in the fall, but it's mild by comparison. 

Yes, it's beautiful outside, but it's also a pain, too.

Give Thanks...For A Father's Small Act

 Since I can't ask my dad personally, I must surmise his thought process. It's 1972. He's away on a business trip, out of state, dealing with flights, hotels, late schedules, and yes...lost luggage. Somehow, the man with three children under ten years old found time to pick out a postcard, write a message, stamp it, and send it in the mail.

Such a small act...

Remembered over fifty years later.

In a box in my basement you'll find a postcard from 1972, a card I'm guessing my dad picked it up in the airport or the hotel. For some reason, he picked that card for me. 

See those lines? If I'm not mistaken, they exist because a spoiled six-year old child saw the postcard and got mad because the photo on the card was a stinky old building behind a gate, not something cool like a car or a plane or anything else. I don't have a lot of memories of when I was six, but I definitely remember getting mad that my card stunk. It's highly possibly my dad sent my older brother a much cooler card than mine, hence the immature rage.

I can imagine my mother watching her son get mad at her husband's incredibly kind gesture. He didn't need to buy the cards, fill them out and send them, especially when he didn't have to. 

Somehow, this piece of card stock survived. It was stored somewhere during my pre-teen and teenage years. After I grew up, physically and emotionally and understood the significance of the card and what it meant, I kept it safe. 

No one knew back in January 1972 that my father would only live another twenty-five months, then he'd be gone. I have very few items that he gave to me. It's the nature of all things to go away, disappear, cease to exist. This little card could have been tossed. Heck, I could have shredded it right then and there...

But I didn't.

I'm thankful I didn't.

I'm thankful for my father who, in what had to be a crap trip, picked out a postcard for me and sent it in the mail. In a million years there's no way he could have known that his son (who turns sixty-years old next year...) would have kept that card and that it would affect him these years and decades later. Like ripples in water, that small act extends still today.

Thanks, Dad for the card and for calling me master. Even though I hated it at the time, it's a wonderful treasure today.

Truthfully...I'd Say I'm Pretty Lucky

 I saw it. I picked it up. The old adage came to mind and in that instant, I agreed...

I'm pretty lucky.

Of course, luck is all about how its defined, and perhaps more importantly, who is doing the defining. I think on most accounts, I'm lucky. At birth I was placed into an amazing family and I've known wonderful people all my life. Yes, many have now passed including my mother, father, and little sister, but my childhood was filled with incredible adventures. No, we didn't have the most money back them, but we had the things we needed.

I've grown up, got married, had children, have a grandson, been relatively healthy my whole life, been employed almost full-time since after high school. It's like my whole life I've found pennies all over the place.

It's about perspective.

Like everyone, I can look back on my life and the life I'm living now and get depressed. I could blame growing up without a father for problems. I could blame my birth parents for putting me up for adoption. I could blame other people for other issues in my life. It's human nature to do so.

I don't mean to imply that I'm always positive, always taking the blame for the bad times that come along in my life. I'm not. I still get bummed every now and again, but if I change the perspective, I cannot stay that way. I mean, I sometimes forget the perspective thing and am still down, but if my logical mind wins out, I realize just how lucky I've been my entire life.

Yeah, I picked up the penny, even though...

I didn't need to.

I Thought--Hoped We Were Rid Of These Forever...

 That's what I thought, anyway. I was wrong.

I've lived in Northern Utah almost my entire life. Even though it's been a long time ago, I remember growing up and playing in the yard, in the dirt, in the weeds. I remember having to do yard work each spring and summer. One thing I don't remember is having snails and slugs around.

I don't know when things changed, but for the past 20 or 30 years, we've had to deal with the invading Gastropoda. You try poisons, physically removing them, even smashing them (worst thing to do...), and no matter what you do, they keep coming back.

When we moved even more north a few years ago, one thing we noticed was the lack of the snails and slugs. That changed Wednesday. As I was cleaning dog poop from the backyard, I noticed something slimy. I thought it was a worm, but upon closer inspection, it was a slug.

I guess the snail-less and slug-less days are over.

Since I've not done any formal research or spoken to anyone who knows more about the subject that I do,  I have no idea if they've been here the whole time and it's just recently I spotted one, or if they're new addition to the ecosystem. I don't even know if they're beneficial or not. All I know is, growing up they didn't exist in our area, then they're everywhere. 

I fear the pattern is starting anew.

Bummer.

How Much Are Those Glasses In The Basement...?

 Last night I found myself digging through treasures in our basement. A friend reached out to see if I had my Danish missionary discussions from 1985. I remember having them before we moved because I had a mental decision on whether or not to pack them up and take them to the new house, or basically toss them in the trash. I hadn't even cracked them open since I got home from the mission. I thought I kept them, but if I did, they weren't anywhere I looked...

But, I found other things.

Like antique sunglasses.

These were my mom's. She got them from someone in her family--I believe, her grandmother. If that's true, they're at least 125 years old. I remember her showing me them when I was a kid and she told me their history. I should have paid more attention (I should have paid more attention to a lot of things...). 

When my mom passed away, we could not possibly keep all of her stuff. The sunglasses, however, they're easy to keep. After I found them looking for something else last night, I snapped a few pictures, then did internet search after search for similar items to see what value the world placed on a similar par of glasses.

Couldn't find anything like them. 

Try it yourself--type in "1800s green sunglasses" and if you're like me, you'll see things similar, but not exactly like these. Also, the ones I did see, it was hard to get an idea of value. Some were priced at a couple of hundred dollars...others around $60. 

It doesn't matter what others think they're worth. For me, it's a link to my mother's family, a connection to people long dead. I'll probably never sell them.

Then, of course, there's the question of where they'll end up after I'm gone. Will my kids even care about them? If not, I can't blame them. They weren't around when my mother told me the story. Unless they read this post, they'll have no idea where I got them, thrift store, maybe? They'll be just another thing in boxes in the basement that they'll wonder about. Still, they're kind of awesome.

Who knows? They might even end up wearing them.