Boredom – having only one student visit the tutoring center all day. The fact that it happens to be a gorgeous day outside and I’m stuck inside with nothing to do doesn’t make it any better. Can’t wait for 4:00.
Surprise – being pulled off a stepladder by a horse. I knew he was getting a little nosy, but I figured it didn’t matter if he wanted to nuzzle my carpenter belt. That all changed when he stopped nuzzling, grabbed the handle of my hammer firmly between his teeth (my hammer was holstered to my belt at the time), and gave a sharp tug! Fortunately I was only up about two steps on the ladder so I managed to land on my feet and avoid what would have been a very soft landing.
Also fitting surprise – realizing during an after-dark-jog that you are unknowingly chasing a skunk down the road. I had no idea until I slowed down to a walk and heard the frantic scrabbling of claws on pavement and saw a dark form shuffling down the road in front of me – apparently unable to get out of my path because of the snow-banks lining the road. Fortunately I stopped jogging before he did.
Beautiful – a flock of Snow Geese taking flight off a glistening pond into a bright blue sky.
Humorous – hearing your brother wonder out loud who would ever use a language as complicated as English! It wouldn’t be so funny if he actually knew another language. lol. However, like me, I think most of his knowledge of foreign languages comes from Hogan’s Heroes and a handful of other movies.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Our Cabin
I love all this snow -- walking/swimming through huge snowdrifts, walking outside at night when the snow is swirling all around, and being snowed in for a few days is great, especially when some of them are school days! -- but I thought of our cabin recently and suddenly had a desire to be there. Found this short description I had to write for English class recently and it reminded me of what I love about our cabin. Kinda wish it was spring and we had an excuse to take a trip up there again. . .
The lime-green paint on our cabin matches the thousands of mildew spores which cling to it, but clashes badly with the dark green pine trees around it. Two small windows on either side of the chimney give the cabin a face-like appearance. When lights are on inside, the face smiles a welcome. Right now the blinds are pulled and the face sleeps somberly. The sagging porch creaks gently as we carry our sleeping bags and backpacks across it.
Walking through the front door, the inside of the cabin is completely dark at first. We turn the breaker off every time we leave to lesson the risk of fire. At first, the cabin smells somewhat musty; it hasn't been opened in several weeks. Flipping the breaker, the lights flick on and suddenly the cabin comes to life. The carpet under our feet nice and plush, even it if does have dirt stains. The single hanging lamp gives off a subdued, comfortable light, like a candle glow reflected softly in a dark cave.
“I'm hungry,” Greg says almost as soon as we walk in. We chuckle. That's usual for him.
“You two get a fire going and the rest of you unpack while I make something to eat,” mom says, shooing everybody out of the kitchen which is so small only two people can stand in there at a time. Before long the fire has driven the cold, musty air out of the cabin and the familiar smells of hot-dogs and Busch's Baked-Beans, and Mac-and-Cheese are floating from the kitchen. The fire crackles in the old pot-bellied stove as we sit down to eat and talk about the hikes, games, and food planned for the rest of the weekend.
Two days later, as we pack up to leave, the cabin begins to return to it's lonely hibernation. It's getting close to winter and we probably won't be back up until spring. Pulling all the sleeping bags off the beds, pushing the furniture back into the corners, we slowly put the cabin back to sleep it enjoyed before we disturbed it. With the cold “snap” of the breaker being switched, the cabin turns back into a dark room. We quietly shut the door and close the latch before walking back into the real world.
The lime-green paint on our cabin matches the thousands of mildew spores which cling to it, but clashes badly with the dark green pine trees around it. Two small windows on either side of the chimney give the cabin a face-like appearance. When lights are on inside, the face smiles a welcome. Right now the blinds are pulled and the face sleeps somberly. The sagging porch creaks gently as we carry our sleeping bags and backpacks across it.
Walking through the front door, the inside of the cabin is completely dark at first. We turn the breaker off every time we leave to lesson the risk of fire. At first, the cabin smells somewhat musty; it hasn't been opened in several weeks. Flipping the breaker, the lights flick on and suddenly the cabin comes to life. The carpet under our feet nice and plush, even it if does have dirt stains. The single hanging lamp gives off a subdued, comfortable light, like a candle glow reflected softly in a dark cave.
“I'm hungry,” Greg says almost as soon as we walk in. We chuckle. That's usual for him.
“You two get a fire going and the rest of you unpack while I make something to eat,” mom says, shooing everybody out of the kitchen which is so small only two people can stand in there at a time. Before long the fire has driven the cold, musty air out of the cabin and the familiar smells of hot-dogs and Busch's Baked-Beans, and Mac-and-Cheese are floating from the kitchen. The fire crackles in the old pot-bellied stove as we sit down to eat and talk about the hikes, games, and food planned for the rest of the weekend.
Two days later, as we pack up to leave, the cabin begins to return to it's lonely hibernation. It's getting close to winter and we probably won't be back up until spring. Pulling all the sleeping bags off the beds, pushing the furniture back into the corners, we slowly put the cabin back to sleep it enjoyed before we disturbed it. With the cold “snap” of the breaker being switched, the cabin turns back into a dark room. We quietly shut the door and close the latch before walking back into the real world.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Two boys and a trap
The squirrel stares at the box. It was an odd-looking creature, with wooden slats on the side and a gaping mouth that hasn't moved in hours. Just inside the mouth is a dab of peanut butter that has been tantalizing the squirrel's nose all day. Paws twitching nervously, the squirrel contemplates a small lick . . . . **********************
Thud.
“That's too heavy. A squirrel will never set it off.”
“What if we shorten the trigger?”
“We could, but that's going to make it awfully touchy.”
Sawdust floats down from the workbench, suspended in the shaft of afternoon sunlight streaming through the garage window. A bitter wind whips around the house as two boys work on their project.
It's not much to look at, just a large square box with strings and wires sticking out at odd angles. Its purpose: To catch squirrels. Squirrel traps are cheap. They sell for about $10 at local hardware stores. If efficiency were the question, this venture would definitely not be worthwhile. Both boys have logged hours into this project and they aren't getting paid for it or graded on it.
Two boys tinkering in a garage. That's what it seems to be at first. However, that's not what is really happening. What these two boys are really doing is much more significant: They are escaping boredom.
*********************
The squirrel eyes the box nervously. He had watched as two boys brought it out of the house across the street and set it at the base of his tree. They had spent a lot of time moving it around and adjusting it, but then they had left without it. They had also left something very tasty with it. The only problem was that it was on the inside. The squirrel cocks his head as he looks at the trap, trying to make sense of it all. What was the purpose of this new thing? Why was it sitting at the base of his tree and why didn't it move?
********************
The phone rings and my younger brother Josh picks up. As he guessed, it's Jesse. As usual, the conversation is succinct, as usual.
“You done with school?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to do something?”
“Sure. Meet me at my house in two minutes.”
Josh and Jesse have had this conversation hundreds of times, word for word, almost every time. A minute later, the door to the house across the street opens and Jesse, dressed in faded jeans and his dad's Carhart coat, runs across the road in his clunky work boots. The two meet in our garage to discuss the agenda for the day. Today the decision is unanimous. Work on the squirrel trap.
Josh and Jesse are both home-schooled. This means that if they get up early and get busy on their school right away, they can often be done by lunch. Aside from chores, this lets the whole afternoon open for free time.
Free time is a phenomenon most common among children. Of the 24 hours in a day, most children have a few of them with nothing to do but whatever they choose. One of the most popular choices is play. For centuries children have found ways to amuse themselves. In ancient Greece and Rome they played with jacks, dice, checkers, and yo-yos. In warlike Sparta, children often fitted themselves with armor and sticks and made pretend games of war. In the middle ages, play time was limited due to the need for extra hands to do farm work. However, children still found time for some play. Young boys played at being knights and girls played house. Later, near the turn of the 19th century, free time began to rise again as more people moved off farms and there was less work for children to do. Sports came on the scene at this point and children spent hours playing and practicing with balls and bats of all descriptions. Currently, with the rise in technology, children spend an average of 3 hours in front of a screen, either watching TV or surfing the internet.
What children do with free time has long been a subject of debate, and big business. Magazines and the Internet are filled with articles and studies about the effects of different types of recreation and adds for the types they deem best. When it comes to free time, there are generally two schools of thought. Some conclude that idle hands are the devil's workshop and favor limiting free time, choosing structured activities instead for their children. Others, either through intention or apathy, allow their children to spend their free time as they wish. Thousands of hours of research . . . millions of dollars . . . all to decide what children should do with their free time.
Josh and Jesse don't know or care about any of this. All they know is that one of them doesn't have a TV and the other one doesn't like board games. They have free time and they needed something to do. That was the beginning of the squirrel trap.
Josh and Jesse are both avid outdoorsmen. Josh has watched his dad and brothers go hunting for as long as he can remember, and for years he's dreamed of going with them. Jesse's dad hunts as well the year before came home with a nice 8 point buck which really gave Josh and Jesse the fever. However, the legal age to start hunting is twelve and neither Josh or Jesse meets this requirement yet. So, they've had to settle for imaginary game instead. Over the summer, they spend long hours running around, the tail of Jesse's Davy-Crocket-coonskin-hat flapping like a flag in the breeze as they search for dangerous animals of all sorts. Unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately -- for them, Lancaster Pennsylvania isn't home to many dangerous animals. Foxes and hawks are the most common predators in their area, moving in and around farms as look for the rabbits and squirrels that live in narrow fence rows and small patches of woods. However, despite predators, there is an overabundance of squirrels in the neighborhood where Josh and Jesse live, some of which prove to be a nuisance to the neighborhood flowers and gardens. That's where the idea of a squirrel trap originated. However, during the warm summer days there were too many other things to do, to many sports to play, so the idea got shelved.
Summer turned to fall and fall to winter. As the days grew colder and outdoor activities became scarce, Josh and Jesse's minds returned the summer plot of catching squirrels.
********************
The squirrel puts its nose up to the box and uses its paws to explore the walls. It is made of wood, and although it still smells vaguely of the two boys, it doesn't seem threatening. Jumping up on top of the box, the squirrel looks through the wood and wire that separate it from the peanut butter. Wire has been twisted in and around the wood, making it impossible for it to get in any other way than the mouth of the box. However, the mouth has a raised piece of wood above it, a piece of wood that had moved several times as the boys set it up. That moving piece of wood . . . that is what scares the squirrel and keeps it from the tasty treat. However, it hasn't moved in quite a while, and the longer the squirrel stares at it, the less scared he is. It only moved when the boys were around, and for all he knows it won't move again without their help . . . .
********************
“I think the box should have slats so the squirrel can look through it. A squirrel will be scared of a solid box,” Josh says.
“But if we have too many slats the squirrel will be able to squeeze out,” Jesse points out. “And what are we going to make the box out of?”
“Wood.”
“What if the squirrel chews its way out? They have sharp teeth.”
“How about wire woven in between the wood?”
“Hmm . . . it might work.”
Jesse's dad is a carpenter who owns his own business. When he cleans up a job sight, he brings all the scraps home with him. Their shed is full of sawed off pieces of wood of all different shapes and sizes, and their garage is full of power tools and cans of nails and screws, so finding material for the box is no problem. In our garage, they begin to fashion a crude box.
The teeth of a rusty saw rasp against the wood, cutting a jagged line through the two-by-four. Josh hasn't gotten the hang of sawing a straight line yet. That's okay, though. The box doesn't need to win a beauty contest, it just needs to hold a squirrel. Jesse, holding nails between his lips the way he has seen his dad do it, takes the piece of wood and nails it to the roof of the box, tapping cautiously to make sure the nail doesn't bend. They weren't allowed to use the power tools yet, but the handsaw, hammer, and nails work pretty well. A little bit of wire wrapped around the box and woven in between the slats caps it off, reinforcing the strength of the box and also its home-made appearance. They continue adding to the box and testing it until they are sure a squirrel won't be able to squeeze or chew its way out. Satisfied with the box part, they turn their attention to the most important part of a trap: The door. That's not going to be as easy.
Concocting a door that will close and stay closed by itself is not easy. At first Josh and Jesse favored using a manual door and controlling it from a distance from a string, but after a cold morning of no success, they decided to work on an automatic door. They thought about a sliding door, but Jesse favored a door on hinges.
Josh and Jesse have worked on many projects together. From potato guns, to miniature electric lathes, to tiny microwaves, to exploding arrows, they have invented many things over the years. As is the case with most boys, they don't always see agree on the best way to get things done. However, trouble shooting experiments has taught them the art of compromise and cooperation. Usually, if they have different ideas and they can't talk the other one out of his, they'll try both ways and see which one works best. In this case, the hinged door works best.
The door went through many stages before it was finished. Josh and Jesse experiment with ways to set off their trap. They started out with a simple trip lever, a system where the squirrel would knock out a prop as it entered the box, allowing the door to close. However, this system took to long and it was too unpredictable. So, it was back to the drawing board. Eventually they settled for a pan trigger, basically a see-saw which pulled a string when the squirrel stepped on it. The string worked through a pulley system which pulled a pin and released the door.
Once the problem of closing the door was solved, the problem of keeping it closed began. Josh and Jesse drew up complex plans for a spring-loaded latching system which would snap into place once the door was shut. Unfortunately that sort of system requires more materials and skill than they have at the time. Stuck, they wander into the living room to play Rook and think about the problem. Somewhere along the line, inspiration strikes Jesse, a solution so simple they overlooked it.
“What about a log that falls into place in front of the door!”
Josh doesn't catch the idea right away. “How are we going to get a log to fall in front of the door?”
“No,” Jesse says, grabbing a piece of paper to sketch his idea. “Look here. If we balance a long piece of wood across the door when it's held up.” Grabbing a Lincoln log, he demonstrates what he means. “When the door drops, that piece of wood will follow it right to the ground.” The Lincoln log drops to the floor and light goes on in Josh's head.
“All we need is two notches to catch it and hold it in front of the door!”
It's the perfect solution. Simple and easy to make. They test it in our garage the day before they set it out. I am in charge of the videotaping the event.
“The squirrel walks towards the trap like this.” Jesse picks up a piece of wood and thumps it across floor towards the trap. Greg, my other brother, decides to add some dramatic narration.
“Should I go in? Shouldn't I go in?” He says, imitating the squirrel. The stick thumps closer to the door.
“It looks harmless,” Greg continues to jabber. “Maybe I'll just take one . . .” the stick thumps through the door-- “little . . .” it hesitates over the trigger -- “look . . .”
The stick lands on the trigger, pulling a string and releasing the pin which holds the door between two eye-loops.
“And Presto!” Jesse exclaims as the door slams shut.
“Then the lock falls down and the squirrel is trapped” Josh says as a bar falls from its perch above the door to land in the two slots waiting for it in front of the door. He rattles the door to show how secure it is.
I'm impressed. I never really thought they would or could make it work. I even told them so. When I was their age, I had an idea for a live trap, but mine never made it off the paper. I was convinced theirs wouldn't either. However, I had been working on mine alone. Watching them, I realize the advantage of working with a friend. Two heads are better than one, and it's definitely more exciting. The trap doesn't look very impressive, but it works. However, the real test is yet to come. Will it work on a real squirrel?
***********************
The squirrel decides the trap looks harmless. Inside our house, Josh waits with baited breath as the squirrel approaches the door. Jesse has called him and told him there is one close, and now both boys are watching out of their windows, waiting to see if all their hard work will pay off. They've already had one squirrel escape before the door could close, but they've made some modifications since then. They hope it works.
The squirrel jumps through the door and contemplates the food on the other side of the trigger. However, instead of stepping on the trigger, the squirrel jumps across it and helps itself to the feast. Josh and Jesse can't believe it. The trap will never work if the squirrel figures out it can jump over the trigger. However, the squirrel is still nervous and, as it eats, it suddenly decides it doesn't like being in a box. Turning to run, it is a single leap from safety when its foot hits the trigger -- Presto! The string releases the pin and door slams down an inch away from the squirrel's nose. With shouts that can be heard across the neighborhood, Josh and Jesse run from the house. The squirrel scrabbles at the wood door and jumps around the cage, but to no avail. The trap door is closed and secured, just as they planned. Both Josh and Jesse come from families of 5, and older and younger siblings pour out of the house and gather around the trap as Josh and Jesse celebrate like two frontiersmen who have just captured their prey. Eventually even both moms come out, coats draped loosely over their shoulders as they grab their elbows and shiver in their short sleeves, trying to stay warm as they inspect the triumph. Josh and Jesse don't seem to mind the cold. They're too busy high-fiving and congratulating each other, talking about how well the trap worked. Soon however, the moms break up the little meeting and remind everyone that this is still a school day. Reluctantly, Josh and Jesse head back to their rooms and schoolwork, already talking about how they can improve the trap. They've already got big plans for what they're going to do that afternoon . . . and many afternoons just like it.
Josh and Jesse have made a lot of things over the years. Not all of them work very well (as was the case with motor bike – made out of a chain-saw motor and an old bicycle – which wouldn't stay together long enough to move more than a few feet at a time), but some of them have been real accomplishments (such as the log chairs Jesse built for his mom and which still sit proudly on their front porch). One windy day I looked out and saw them conducting a sailing experiment with tarps, a bedsheet, and a brown Coaster wagon. The tarp flapped uncontrollably in the wind and the wagon kept upsetting and ditching them in the dirt. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but they were finding out a lot of things that didn't work. They'll know better for next time. Right now they have plans for making a crossbow. Either that or improving the motor bike so that it goes fast enough and far enough to be fun.
Two boys with spare time on their hands. Some people would say that's a recipe for trouble. In many cases it is. However, for Josh and Jesse, it has turned out to be just the opposite. Their inventions and brainstorms have made them closer friends and taught them to think creatively. Adults often underestimate children's ability to amuse themselves. They think that to keep kids occupied they need to buy them the latest video game or motorized toy. In doing so, they may be overlooking one of the simplest and most productive forms of entertainment: Invention.
With a hammer and nails, a saw, some wire, and a little bit of free time, I know of two boys who invented something great: A way to escape boredom.
Thud.
“That's too heavy. A squirrel will never set it off.”
“What if we shorten the trigger?”
“We could, but that's going to make it awfully touchy.”
Sawdust floats down from the workbench, suspended in the shaft of afternoon sunlight streaming through the garage window. A bitter wind whips around the house as two boys work on their project.
It's not much to look at, just a large square box with strings and wires sticking out at odd angles. Its purpose: To catch squirrels. Squirrel traps are cheap. They sell for about $10 at local hardware stores. If efficiency were the question, this venture would definitely not be worthwhile. Both boys have logged hours into this project and they aren't getting paid for it or graded on it.
Two boys tinkering in a garage. That's what it seems to be at first. However, that's not what is really happening. What these two boys are really doing is much more significant: They are escaping boredom.
*********************
The squirrel eyes the box nervously. He had watched as two boys brought it out of the house across the street and set it at the base of his tree. They had spent a lot of time moving it around and adjusting it, but then they had left without it. They had also left something very tasty with it. The only problem was that it was on the inside. The squirrel cocks his head as he looks at the trap, trying to make sense of it all. What was the purpose of this new thing? Why was it sitting at the base of his tree and why didn't it move?
********************
The phone rings and my younger brother Josh picks up. As he guessed, it's Jesse. As usual, the conversation is succinct, as usual.
“You done with school?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to do something?”
“Sure. Meet me at my house in two minutes.”
Josh and Jesse have had this conversation hundreds of times, word for word, almost every time. A minute later, the door to the house across the street opens and Jesse, dressed in faded jeans and his dad's Carhart coat, runs across the road in his clunky work boots. The two meet in our garage to discuss the agenda for the day. Today the decision is unanimous. Work on the squirrel trap.
Josh and Jesse are both home-schooled. This means that if they get up early and get busy on their school right away, they can often be done by lunch. Aside from chores, this lets the whole afternoon open for free time.
Free time is a phenomenon most common among children. Of the 24 hours in a day, most children have a few of them with nothing to do but whatever they choose. One of the most popular choices is play. For centuries children have found ways to amuse themselves. In ancient Greece and Rome they played with jacks, dice, checkers, and yo-yos. In warlike Sparta, children often fitted themselves with armor and sticks and made pretend games of war. In the middle ages, play time was limited due to the need for extra hands to do farm work. However, children still found time for some play. Young boys played at being knights and girls played house. Later, near the turn of the 19th century, free time began to rise again as more people moved off farms and there was less work for children to do. Sports came on the scene at this point and children spent hours playing and practicing with balls and bats of all descriptions. Currently, with the rise in technology, children spend an average of 3 hours in front of a screen, either watching TV or surfing the internet.
What children do with free time has long been a subject of debate, and big business. Magazines and the Internet are filled with articles and studies about the effects of different types of recreation and adds for the types they deem best. When it comes to free time, there are generally two schools of thought. Some conclude that idle hands are the devil's workshop and favor limiting free time, choosing structured activities instead for their children. Others, either through intention or apathy, allow their children to spend their free time as they wish. Thousands of hours of research . . . millions of dollars . . . all to decide what children should do with their free time.
Josh and Jesse don't know or care about any of this. All they know is that one of them doesn't have a TV and the other one doesn't like board games. They have free time and they needed something to do. That was the beginning of the squirrel trap.
Josh and Jesse are both avid outdoorsmen. Josh has watched his dad and brothers go hunting for as long as he can remember, and for years he's dreamed of going with them. Jesse's dad hunts as well the year before came home with a nice 8 point buck which really gave Josh and Jesse the fever. However, the legal age to start hunting is twelve and neither Josh or Jesse meets this requirement yet. So, they've had to settle for imaginary game instead. Over the summer, they spend long hours running around, the tail of Jesse's Davy-Crocket-coonskin-hat flapping like a flag in the breeze as they search for dangerous animals of all sorts. Unfortunately -- or maybe fortunately -- for them, Lancaster Pennsylvania isn't home to many dangerous animals. Foxes and hawks are the most common predators in their area, moving in and around farms as look for the rabbits and squirrels that live in narrow fence rows and small patches of woods. However, despite predators, there is an overabundance of squirrels in the neighborhood where Josh and Jesse live, some of which prove to be a nuisance to the neighborhood flowers and gardens. That's where the idea of a squirrel trap originated. However, during the warm summer days there were too many other things to do, to many sports to play, so the idea got shelved.
Summer turned to fall and fall to winter. As the days grew colder and outdoor activities became scarce, Josh and Jesse's minds returned the summer plot of catching squirrels.
********************
The squirrel puts its nose up to the box and uses its paws to explore the walls. It is made of wood, and although it still smells vaguely of the two boys, it doesn't seem threatening. Jumping up on top of the box, the squirrel looks through the wood and wire that separate it from the peanut butter. Wire has been twisted in and around the wood, making it impossible for it to get in any other way than the mouth of the box. However, the mouth has a raised piece of wood above it, a piece of wood that had moved several times as the boys set it up. That moving piece of wood . . . that is what scares the squirrel and keeps it from the tasty treat. However, it hasn't moved in quite a while, and the longer the squirrel stares at it, the less scared he is. It only moved when the boys were around, and for all he knows it won't move again without their help . . . .
********************
“I think the box should have slats so the squirrel can look through it. A squirrel will be scared of a solid box,” Josh says.
“But if we have too many slats the squirrel will be able to squeeze out,” Jesse points out. “And what are we going to make the box out of?”
“Wood.”
“What if the squirrel chews its way out? They have sharp teeth.”
“How about wire woven in between the wood?”
“Hmm . . . it might work.”
Jesse's dad is a carpenter who owns his own business. When he cleans up a job sight, he brings all the scraps home with him. Their shed is full of sawed off pieces of wood of all different shapes and sizes, and their garage is full of power tools and cans of nails and screws, so finding material for the box is no problem. In our garage, they begin to fashion a crude box.
The teeth of a rusty saw rasp against the wood, cutting a jagged line through the two-by-four. Josh hasn't gotten the hang of sawing a straight line yet. That's okay, though. The box doesn't need to win a beauty contest, it just needs to hold a squirrel. Jesse, holding nails between his lips the way he has seen his dad do it, takes the piece of wood and nails it to the roof of the box, tapping cautiously to make sure the nail doesn't bend. They weren't allowed to use the power tools yet, but the handsaw, hammer, and nails work pretty well. A little bit of wire wrapped around the box and woven in between the slats caps it off, reinforcing the strength of the box and also its home-made appearance. They continue adding to the box and testing it until they are sure a squirrel won't be able to squeeze or chew its way out. Satisfied with the box part, they turn their attention to the most important part of a trap: The door. That's not going to be as easy.
Concocting a door that will close and stay closed by itself is not easy. At first Josh and Jesse favored using a manual door and controlling it from a distance from a string, but after a cold morning of no success, they decided to work on an automatic door. They thought about a sliding door, but Jesse favored a door on hinges.
Josh and Jesse have worked on many projects together. From potato guns, to miniature electric lathes, to tiny microwaves, to exploding arrows, they have invented many things over the years. As is the case with most boys, they don't always see agree on the best way to get things done. However, trouble shooting experiments has taught them the art of compromise and cooperation. Usually, if they have different ideas and they can't talk the other one out of his, they'll try both ways and see which one works best. In this case, the hinged door works best.
The door went through many stages before it was finished. Josh and Jesse experiment with ways to set off their trap. They started out with a simple trip lever, a system where the squirrel would knock out a prop as it entered the box, allowing the door to close. However, this system took to long and it was too unpredictable. So, it was back to the drawing board. Eventually they settled for a pan trigger, basically a see-saw which pulled a string when the squirrel stepped on it. The string worked through a pulley system which pulled a pin and released the door.
Once the problem of closing the door was solved, the problem of keeping it closed began. Josh and Jesse drew up complex plans for a spring-loaded latching system which would snap into place once the door was shut. Unfortunately that sort of system requires more materials and skill than they have at the time. Stuck, they wander into the living room to play Rook and think about the problem. Somewhere along the line, inspiration strikes Jesse, a solution so simple they overlooked it.
“What about a log that falls into place in front of the door!”
Josh doesn't catch the idea right away. “How are we going to get a log to fall in front of the door?”
“No,” Jesse says, grabbing a piece of paper to sketch his idea. “Look here. If we balance a long piece of wood across the door when it's held up.” Grabbing a Lincoln log, he demonstrates what he means. “When the door drops, that piece of wood will follow it right to the ground.” The Lincoln log drops to the floor and light goes on in Josh's head.
“All we need is two notches to catch it and hold it in front of the door!”
It's the perfect solution. Simple and easy to make. They test it in our garage the day before they set it out. I am in charge of the videotaping the event.
“The squirrel walks towards the trap like this.” Jesse picks up a piece of wood and thumps it across floor towards the trap. Greg, my other brother, decides to add some dramatic narration.
“Should I go in? Shouldn't I go in?” He says, imitating the squirrel. The stick thumps closer to the door.
“It looks harmless,” Greg continues to jabber. “Maybe I'll just take one . . .” the stick thumps through the door-- “little . . .” it hesitates over the trigger -- “look . . .”
The stick lands on the trigger, pulling a string and releasing the pin which holds the door between two eye-loops.
“And Presto!” Jesse exclaims as the door slams shut.
“Then the lock falls down and the squirrel is trapped” Josh says as a bar falls from its perch above the door to land in the two slots waiting for it in front of the door. He rattles the door to show how secure it is.
I'm impressed. I never really thought they would or could make it work. I even told them so. When I was their age, I had an idea for a live trap, but mine never made it off the paper. I was convinced theirs wouldn't either. However, I had been working on mine alone. Watching them, I realize the advantage of working with a friend. Two heads are better than one, and it's definitely more exciting. The trap doesn't look very impressive, but it works. However, the real test is yet to come. Will it work on a real squirrel?
***********************
The squirrel decides the trap looks harmless. Inside our house, Josh waits with baited breath as the squirrel approaches the door. Jesse has called him and told him there is one close, and now both boys are watching out of their windows, waiting to see if all their hard work will pay off. They've already had one squirrel escape before the door could close, but they've made some modifications since then. They hope it works.
The squirrel jumps through the door and contemplates the food on the other side of the trigger. However, instead of stepping on the trigger, the squirrel jumps across it and helps itself to the feast. Josh and Jesse can't believe it. The trap will never work if the squirrel figures out it can jump over the trigger. However, the squirrel is still nervous and, as it eats, it suddenly decides it doesn't like being in a box. Turning to run, it is a single leap from safety when its foot hits the trigger -- Presto! The string releases the pin and door slams down an inch away from the squirrel's nose. With shouts that can be heard across the neighborhood, Josh and Jesse run from the house. The squirrel scrabbles at the wood door and jumps around the cage, but to no avail. The trap door is closed and secured, just as they planned. Both Josh and Jesse come from families of 5, and older and younger siblings pour out of the house and gather around the trap as Josh and Jesse celebrate like two frontiersmen who have just captured their prey. Eventually even both moms come out, coats draped loosely over their shoulders as they grab their elbows and shiver in their short sleeves, trying to stay warm as they inspect the triumph. Josh and Jesse don't seem to mind the cold. They're too busy high-fiving and congratulating each other, talking about how well the trap worked. Soon however, the moms break up the little meeting and remind everyone that this is still a school day. Reluctantly, Josh and Jesse head back to their rooms and schoolwork, already talking about how they can improve the trap. They've already got big plans for what they're going to do that afternoon . . . and many afternoons just like it.
Josh and Jesse have made a lot of things over the years. Not all of them work very well (as was the case with motor bike – made out of a chain-saw motor and an old bicycle – which wouldn't stay together long enough to move more than a few feet at a time), but some of them have been real accomplishments (such as the log chairs Jesse built for his mom and which still sit proudly on their front porch). One windy day I looked out and saw them conducting a sailing experiment with tarps, a bedsheet, and a brown Coaster wagon. The tarp flapped uncontrollably in the wind and the wagon kept upsetting and ditching them in the dirt. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but they were finding out a lot of things that didn't work. They'll know better for next time. Right now they have plans for making a crossbow. Either that or improving the motor bike so that it goes fast enough and far enough to be fun.
Two boys with spare time on their hands. Some people would say that's a recipe for trouble. In many cases it is. However, for Josh and Jesse, it has turned out to be just the opposite. Their inventions and brainstorms have made them closer friends and taught them to think creatively. Adults often underestimate children's ability to amuse themselves. They think that to keep kids occupied they need to buy them the latest video game or motorized toy. In doing so, they may be overlooking one of the simplest and most productive forms of entertainment: Invention.
With a hammer and nails, a saw, some wire, and a little bit of free time, I know of two boys who invented something great: A way to escape boredom.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Why? Because it's worth it!
Why do Christians give up so many things to try to separate themselves from the world?
I have been asked this question so many times. Not always in those exact words, but usually along that line. People are always wanting to know why Christians do this and why they won't do that.
I was reading today in James and 4:3 really stood out to me. "Know ye not that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whosoever will be the friend of the world is the enemy of God."
All relationships cost something. A father gives up a large part of his paycheck for his children and a mom will give up most of her time. Brothers, sisters, and friends, if they have a good relationship, will end of doing things for each other that aren't always easy or convenient. Again, all relationships cost something. The more a relationship means, the more you are willing to give up for it.
So, why do Christians give up so many things to separate themselves from the "sins" of the world? If the unsaved knew what a vibrant relationship with God is like, they would know how much that relationship is worth and they would never ask that question. They only ask because they really don't know. Tell them. Show them. So many times, they see only religion and it doesn't make sense to them. Religion without a relationship is like a job without pay. It just doesn't make sense.
The next time someone asks you "Why don't you ___?"(fill in the blank), ask them what they wouldn't give up to keep their relationship with their very best friend. Would you rather be friends with this world or with God? That's the choice that Christians face every day.
I have been asked this question so many times. Not always in those exact words, but usually along that line. People are always wanting to know why Christians do this and why they won't do that.
I was reading today in James and 4:3 really stood out to me. "Know ye not that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Whosoever will be the friend of the world is the enemy of God."
All relationships cost something. A father gives up a large part of his paycheck for his children and a mom will give up most of her time. Brothers, sisters, and friends, if they have a good relationship, will end of doing things for each other that aren't always easy or convenient. Again, all relationships cost something. The more a relationship means, the more you are willing to give up for it.
So, why do Christians give up so many things to separate themselves from the "sins" of the world? If the unsaved knew what a vibrant relationship with God is like, they would know how much that relationship is worth and they would never ask that question. They only ask because they really don't know. Tell them. Show them. So many times, they see only religion and it doesn't make sense to them. Religion without a relationship is like a job without pay. It just doesn't make sense.
The next time someone asks you "Why don't you ___?"(fill in the blank), ask them what they wouldn't give up to keep their relationship with their very best friend. Would you rather be friends with this world or with God? That's the choice that Christians face every day.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Yeah, God knows . . .
God showed me the other day that He knows exactly what I need.
It was Tuesday and I was getting ready to go to tutoring when Mom asked me how I was enjoying tutoring. Being in a somewhat testy mood, I didn't feel like sugar-coating it and so I told her exactly how I felt. It's not that tutoring has been terrible, it's just that it hasn't been quite what I had hoped. I had hoped that tutoring would give me good experience and also give me a chance to really help other people.
Well, it has been really rewarding some of the time, but the rest of the time it can be really frustrating. Instead of feeling like you're actually helping people learn something new, a lot of the time it only feels like you're only trying to help them sort out something that has been learned wrong and is currently a jumbled mess in their head. If you have ever tried to work with people who are tired and confused, you will know that it doesn't take long before you feel a little tired and confused yourself. Some days you feel like you make progress, and other days you feel like you didn't do anything except fix their paper for them.
Anyway, I was a little discouraged as I went to tutoring that day. As I was walking in, I seriously asked myself if I was just wasting my time. (It's not like the amount that student tutors get paid is that great that I couldn't earn more somewhere else).
I had read Psalm 116 earlier that morning which starts out with “I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications.” Now I hadn't specifically asked God for anything like this, but He obviously knew what was going on in my head because He arranged for me to have a most unexpected-but-amazing conversation.
She was an older black lady and I've tutored her several times. Actually, she's one of the more rewarding students to tutor. I don't know how to explain it, but some students are easy to connect with and help than others. (It doesn't sound nice, but some are an absolute brick wall . . . not that they're dumb, they just don't give you any feedback and you have now way of knowing whether or not they actually understand anything you're saying.) Anyway, she and I have always gotten along well and as soon as she walked into the center and saw me, she came right over and said “Oh good, I was hoping to see you today.”
She sat down and I started looking over her paper as she started talking like she usually does. She seemed a little flustered and disorganized, and pretty soon she told me that she's a little disorganized right now because she just had a death in the family. I had finished her paper but she seemed like she wanted to talk about it, so I started asking her about it.
She told me how her brother-in-law had died unexpectedly of a heart attack last week, told me about the funeral the day before, and then started talking about life and death in general. I know, a nice encouraging topic, right?! She started dropping things like “I don't know what you know about death” and “I don't know what you believe about God or a higher power” and other things that seemed like subtle hints. I thought to myself “I think she's trying to witness to me.” Being in a blunt mood, I asked her if she was a Christian, and she said she was. I told her that I was too, and what happened next was amazing. It was as if both of us knew immediately who the other person was and what they were going through. Over the next five or ten minutes, we had a conversation that would normally be impossible for an older black lady and a young white guy. Not that we were exactly the same – I could tell right away our cultures were totally different and probably both of us would feel like two left feet in each other's churches – but that didn't matter. We were a brother and sister in Christ, and both of us knew it.
I can't explain the conversation exactly,(some of the other people in the center probably thought we were religious nutcakes if they were listening in =) but suffice it to say that it was really encouraging for both of us. She needed someone who could tell her to slow down and take one thing at a time and who understood the hope that was in her even during a hard time. I needed someone to remind me that God sometimes uses people without them knowing it. Apparently God had used me to encourage her the last couple time I had helped her with her papers, and now she said she had prayed that she would run into me again so she could tell me that she thinks I'm headed down the right path and should continue on to be a teacher because I don't know how many kids I may be able to help. It's not always a good thing to hear something like that because for me it usually leads to pride, but in this case it didn't and it was something I needed to hear.
In the end, both of us realized that we had needed to talk to another Christian, and both of us marveled at how God had arranged it for us. You may not think He knows or cares about what you're thinking to yourself, but I guarantee that He does and that He'll surprise you sometime in the way that He shows it.
It was Tuesday and I was getting ready to go to tutoring when Mom asked me how I was enjoying tutoring. Being in a somewhat testy mood, I didn't feel like sugar-coating it and so I told her exactly how I felt. It's not that tutoring has been terrible, it's just that it hasn't been quite what I had hoped. I had hoped that tutoring would give me good experience and also give me a chance to really help other people.
Well, it has been really rewarding some of the time, but the rest of the time it can be really frustrating. Instead of feeling like you're actually helping people learn something new, a lot of the time it only feels like you're only trying to help them sort out something that has been learned wrong and is currently a jumbled mess in their head. If you have ever tried to work with people who are tired and confused, you will know that it doesn't take long before you feel a little tired and confused yourself. Some days you feel like you make progress, and other days you feel like you didn't do anything except fix their paper for them.
Anyway, I was a little discouraged as I went to tutoring that day. As I was walking in, I seriously asked myself if I was just wasting my time. (It's not like the amount that student tutors get paid is that great that I couldn't earn more somewhere else).
I had read Psalm 116 earlier that morning which starts out with “I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications.” Now I hadn't specifically asked God for anything like this, but He obviously knew what was going on in my head because He arranged for me to have a most unexpected-but-amazing conversation.
She was an older black lady and I've tutored her several times. Actually, she's one of the more rewarding students to tutor. I don't know how to explain it, but some students are easy to connect with and help than others. (It doesn't sound nice, but some are an absolute brick wall . . . not that they're dumb, they just don't give you any feedback and you have now way of knowing whether or not they actually understand anything you're saying.) Anyway, she and I have always gotten along well and as soon as she walked into the center and saw me, she came right over and said “Oh good, I was hoping to see you today.”
She sat down and I started looking over her paper as she started talking like she usually does. She seemed a little flustered and disorganized, and pretty soon she told me that she's a little disorganized right now because she just had a death in the family. I had finished her paper but she seemed like she wanted to talk about it, so I started asking her about it.
She told me how her brother-in-law had died unexpectedly of a heart attack last week, told me about the funeral the day before, and then started talking about life and death in general. I know, a nice encouraging topic, right?! She started dropping things like “I don't know what you know about death” and “I don't know what you believe about God or a higher power” and other things that seemed like subtle hints. I thought to myself “I think she's trying to witness to me.” Being in a blunt mood, I asked her if she was a Christian, and she said she was. I told her that I was too, and what happened next was amazing. It was as if both of us knew immediately who the other person was and what they were going through. Over the next five or ten minutes, we had a conversation that would normally be impossible for an older black lady and a young white guy. Not that we were exactly the same – I could tell right away our cultures were totally different and probably both of us would feel like two left feet in each other's churches – but that didn't matter. We were a brother and sister in Christ, and both of us knew it.
I can't explain the conversation exactly,(some of the other people in the center probably thought we were religious nutcakes if they were listening in =) but suffice it to say that it was really encouraging for both of us. She needed someone who could tell her to slow down and take one thing at a time and who understood the hope that was in her even during a hard time. I needed someone to remind me that God sometimes uses people without them knowing it. Apparently God had used me to encourage her the last couple time I had helped her with her papers, and now she said she had prayed that she would run into me again so she could tell me that she thinks I'm headed down the right path and should continue on to be a teacher because I don't know how many kids I may be able to help. It's not always a good thing to hear something like that because for me it usually leads to pride, but in this case it didn't and it was something I needed to hear.
In the end, both of us realized that we had needed to talk to another Christian, and both of us marveled at how God had arranged it for us. You may not think He knows or cares about what you're thinking to yourself, but I guarantee that He does and that He'll surprise you sometime in the way that He shows it.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Simple things
I forgot how much fun leaves can be. The other day I was helping Mr. Ludwig rake a bunch of them into his horse trailer. We got a whole mound of the really light and fluffy kind on when the temptation became to much. I tried to make it sound like work . . . I really did. I calmly explained to him that we could really get a lot more in if he would let me “compact” them -- and then I dove headfirst into the stack! It was one of the softest and most comfortable mattresses I have ever jumped on. I got leaves in my mouth almost every time I did it, but it was still great fun.
I tried not to act like it was fun (otherwise he might have taken my job), but I think he figured it out eventually. I think the way I shouted every time I jumped into them might have tipped him off. But it really did work, so I got to keep doing it for the rest of the day, which I didn't mind a bit! If you haven't jumped into a pile of leaves yet this year, I would suggest you find one and do it post haste. I makes you feel much better, trust me. However, I have to warn you to find a pile of nice dry leaves. Wet and soggy just doesn't work so well for jumping ;)
I've been finding the merit of simple things recently. When life becomes stifling, which it does sometimes (there are times when I just can't bring myself to write one more paper or read one more chapter of a boring health book) the best of escapes are often found in the simplest of things. It doesn't always take a monumental event to brighten up a week . . . sometimes a pile of leaves and some fresh air will do quite nicely.
People who don't have a reason to be miserable can usually find one without much trouble . . . either a failure in the past or an obstacle in the future. There will always be a reason, and that is precisely the reason why none of them will ever be good. I enjoy remembering the past, and I definitely believe in preparing for the future, but neither of them is a good place to live. That's what I like about holidays like Thanksgiving: they remind me of some of the best things in life, the things I often overlook. I don't know why, but I tend to forget things quickly. As a general rule of thumb, the more basic they are, the faster I forget them. It's strange because the most basic things in life are often the most important. Think about it. When's the last time you gave a second thought to the air you are breathing? It's one of the most important things you do, (I think it takes about six or seven minutes to die once you stop doing it) but I can't remember the last time I thought about it. Probably the last time I went went swimming and realized that there are some places where breathing is a bad idea =)
I think this tendency to forget things is one of the reasons God gave us holidays. Family, friends, a change of season, health . . . Holidays remind me of some of the most basic-but-essential things. They also remind me of how quickly people forget.
I tried not to act like it was fun (otherwise he might have taken my job), but I think he figured it out eventually. I think the way I shouted every time I jumped into them might have tipped him off. But it really did work, so I got to keep doing it for the rest of the day, which I didn't mind a bit! If you haven't jumped into a pile of leaves yet this year, I would suggest you find one and do it post haste. I makes you feel much better, trust me. However, I have to warn you to find a pile of nice dry leaves. Wet and soggy just doesn't work so well for jumping ;)
I've been finding the merit of simple things recently. When life becomes stifling, which it does sometimes (there are times when I just can't bring myself to write one more paper or read one more chapter of a boring health book) the best of escapes are often found in the simplest of things. It doesn't always take a monumental event to brighten up a week . . . sometimes a pile of leaves and some fresh air will do quite nicely.
People who don't have a reason to be miserable can usually find one without much trouble . . . either a failure in the past or an obstacle in the future. There will always be a reason, and that is precisely the reason why none of them will ever be good. I enjoy remembering the past, and I definitely believe in preparing for the future, but neither of them is a good place to live. That's what I like about holidays like Thanksgiving: they remind me of some of the best things in life, the things I often overlook. I don't know why, but I tend to forget things quickly. As a general rule of thumb, the more basic they are, the faster I forget them. It's strange because the most basic things in life are often the most important. Think about it. When's the last time you gave a second thought to the air you are breathing? It's one of the most important things you do, (I think it takes about six or seven minutes to die once you stop doing it) but I can't remember the last time I thought about it. Probably the last time I went went swimming and realized that there are some places where breathing is a bad idea =)
I think this tendency to forget things is one of the reasons God gave us holidays. Family, friends, a change of season, health . . . Holidays remind me of some of the most basic-but-essential things. They also remind me of how quickly people forget.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
College life
Potential . . . there is so much of it at college. So many people in the prime of their life – healthy, athletic, smart, ambitious, skilled, looking for their future – all at one place at one time.
Sometimes I wonder if it is a good idea.
All that potential packed into one place . . . I think I understand why Colleges/universities have been the breeding grounds for some of the best reforms and some of the worst revolutions.
Okay, so not everyone at college is healthy, smart, ambitious, or preparing for their future =) Some of them are, some of them definitely are not, and some of them only think they are! However, the overwhelming majority of people attracted to college fit into one of those categories . . . some of them into several . . . a scary few seem to fit into all of them!
The point is, the amount of potential wrapped up in even one campus is scary. You begin to wonder where it's all going to go and what it's going to do. Like a pack of dynamite, it can do a lot of good if it is used carefully, but if it falls into irresponsible hands, it makes a mess.
Potential . . . so many trying to do to much with it . . . so many doing too little with it. They have all the ingredients for a wonderful and useful life, but as I walk past them and hear their conversations, I realize that most of them don't even know what life is about. They are busy trying to win a game for which they haven't even figured out the rules.
It's sad, but also a little bit scary, for I realize that, without care, I could fall into the same trap. It's terribly easy . . . all it needs is to forget for a while whose definition of success you are aiming for – man's or God's. Forget that, and suddenly you could join the rat race thousands of other people have fallen into . . . the race for success . . . a race as miserable as it is futile unless you know the true definition of success.
The other day,when I was looking at the wrong definition of sucess, God brought this song to mind.
God sees the heart.
Our God does not judge by how tall we may stand,
Or how much we posess, or the rank we command.
His gaze goes far deeper to things that endure,
He honors the man who keeps his heart pure.
For the eyes of the Lord are searching to and fro,
We have no secrets that our does not know,
Our father knows our thoughts, he understands every part,
Man sees the outside, but God sees the heart.
Our God measures man by a standard divine,
For he sees underneath every outward design;
He looks past possessions and costly attire,
He tries every heart, every thought and desire.
For the eyes of the Lord are searching to and fro,
We have no secrets that our does not know,
Our father knows our thoughts, he understands every part,
Man sees the outside, but God sees the heart.
Sometimes I wonder if it is a good idea.
All that potential packed into one place . . . I think I understand why Colleges/universities have been the breeding grounds for some of the best reforms and some of the worst revolutions.
Okay, so not everyone at college is healthy, smart, ambitious, or preparing for their future =) Some of them are, some of them definitely are not, and some of them only think they are! However, the overwhelming majority of people attracted to college fit into one of those categories . . . some of them into several . . . a scary few seem to fit into all of them!
The point is, the amount of potential wrapped up in even one campus is scary. You begin to wonder where it's all going to go and what it's going to do. Like a pack of dynamite, it can do a lot of good if it is used carefully, but if it falls into irresponsible hands, it makes a mess.
Potential . . . so many trying to do to much with it . . . so many doing too little with it. They have all the ingredients for a wonderful and useful life, but as I walk past them and hear their conversations, I realize that most of them don't even know what life is about. They are busy trying to win a game for which they haven't even figured out the rules.
It's sad, but also a little bit scary, for I realize that, without care, I could fall into the same trap. It's terribly easy . . . all it needs is to forget for a while whose definition of success you are aiming for – man's or God's. Forget that, and suddenly you could join the rat race thousands of other people have fallen into . . . the race for success . . . a race as miserable as it is futile unless you know the true definition of success.
The other day,when I was looking at the wrong definition of sucess, God brought this song to mind.
God sees the heart.
Our God does not judge by how tall we may stand,
Or how much we posess, or the rank we command.
His gaze goes far deeper to things that endure,
He honors the man who keeps his heart pure.
For the eyes of the Lord are searching to and fro,
We have no secrets that our does not know,
Our father knows our thoughts, he understands every part,
Man sees the outside, but God sees the heart.
Our God measures man by a standard divine,
For he sees underneath every outward design;
He looks past possessions and costly attire,
He tries every heart, every thought and desire.
For the eyes of the Lord are searching to and fro,
We have no secrets that our does not know,
Our father knows our thoughts, he understands every part,
Man sees the outside, but God sees the heart.
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