Home life

[Update, June 22: I'm pleased to report that I've received a bare foot pardon from the Courthouse Athletic Club. The River Road location, at least. Gary, the manager, says that it is OK to be shoeless in the corner of the weight room where I like to do my Tai Chi and Yoga thing. Thanks, Gary. I ordered some lightweight kung fu shoes before I got the news, though, and may end up wearing them at the club. Regardless, it's nice to have the bare feet option. I appreciate the support I received via comments from the bare foot community,…

Vive le difference. My wife is happy now that we have tile rather than carpet downstairs. I was content with what was there before, but I’m happy she’s happy. As for me, I’m thrilled that, when I mowed the tallish grass today, my new DR Field and Brush Mower didn’t leave clumps of cuttings all over the lawn. To Laurel, this earns a big yawn. But she wasn’t the one who had to keep going over the lines of grass clumps produced by my old side-discharge, three blade, non-mulching mower. I’d remow some clumpy cuttings, which would merely shoot the…

Nice headline, if I may say so myself. Which, since this is my blog, I am. I should clarify, though, that by “community” I basically mean “me.” Nonetheless, this is a big story for baby carrot crunchers: the King of Baby Carrots, Robert Grimm, died recently. At age 54. Of a heart attack. When I saw this in TIME’s “Milestones” section I almost choked. On a baby carrot. I eat a lot of baby carrots. My wife makes me. At the age of 57 I still need babying. “This is why,” Laurel tells me, “married men live longer than single…

I’m pleased to report that, to coin a phrase, major combat operations in the HinesLand blackberry war ended today. Victory is ours! Well, mine, since my wife handles the mopping up and reconstruction duties, while I take care of the heavy duty combat. My last dispatch from the War on Blackberries was November 2004. In that communiqué I said, “We will not rest until every last offshoot of the Himalayan Blackberry evil-doers has been brought to justice.” Indeed, we, by which I mean me, haven’t. After the battlefield shifted to our newly-acquired five acres, as reported in “We buy some…

[1/29 Update: Sorry, progressives. We've sold the car to a nice couple with two kids who just moved here from Australia. I got to try out my "G'day mate" accent, which they were kind enough not to laugh at.] If you’re a progressive and you’re not driving a Volvo, this bumper sticker is going to look ridiculous on your car. But don’t worry. I’ve got a solution for you. Yes, now that we’ve gone beyond Volvoness into Highlander Hybridosity, we’re able to pass on our ’99 V70 XC AWD wagon to someone else who values European craftsmanship, safety, all-weather performance,…

I was thrilled that our New Year’s Eve party was mentioned in today’s Salem Statesman-Journal story, “Residents ring in new year—quietly.” But Laurel got anxious, because the story didn’t mention that this traditional gathering is for members of my meditation group, a fact that I mentioned several times to the S-J reporter who wrote: A desire for a more intimate experience with friends is what motivated Salem's Brian Hines to host a party. "It's just a nice time for fellowship," he said. "Oregonians are a quieter breed. We'd rather have a quiet conversation with people we know than go out,…

After telling Laurel that I'd finished wrapping her presents, this wasn’t the question that I wanted to hear on Christmas Eve: “You probably forgot to get me the only present that I asked for, didn’t you?” My calm audible response was, “Ah, um…of course I didn’t forget.” But inside my head a voice was screaming “Oh, no!” And the worst thing was, at first I couldn’t remember what the requested present was that I had forgotten. Which made sense, of course, yet still was disturbing. Because I couldn’t ask Laurel what it was I’d forgotten without making my horrendous lapse…

Given the accents of the two people I talked with during my Linksys technical support call, I doubt that they were in Omaha. Which doesn’t bother me. Outsource all you want, Linksys, so long as you can get my WRT54G Wireless Router back up and running. I became desperate as soon as I turned on my laptop yesterday and saw that no wireless connection was available. “What the hell!” my mind screamed in its least joyous holiday spirit. After only a month I’d become addicted to our WildBlue satellite broadband internet that had rescued us from the tortures of 24kbps…

Once again I’m pleased to share the Hines’ annual Christmas/Holiday Letter. Every year I strive mightily to come up with a theme that encapsulates what the past 12 months have meant to us. For 2005, it is our sense that we are well on the way to being très anciens (rough translation: old farts). However, sharing this realization with the world — or, at least, the miniscule fraction of such that visits HinesSight — hopefully will have some therapeutic effects. For if it is indeed true that “you are as old as you feel,” then perhaps our open admission that…

Somehow I’ve made room for a new friend on our overflowing supplement shelf. Welcome to the Hines household, Most Honorable Green Tea Extract. May you help bring me many years of abundant health and vitality. Laurel is a major tea drinker. She blends organic black and green tea into a powerful mixture, pours it into large juice containers, and keeps a hearty supply on hand in our two refrigerators. Laurel drinks tea throughout the day. As for me, I’ve been staying away from her strong caffeinated brew. Given my fifty-seven year old prostate, I’ve got more important things to do…

Our Thanksgiving Eve tradition continues: cursing, confusion, and clutter fill the kitchen as Laurel labors to make an apple pie that, precisely 365 days ago, she swore would never darken her culinary door again. Yet, it did. We have been invited to share Thanksgiving with some friends. They are doing most of the cooking but gave us a few choices about what we could bring to the table. Salad. Rolls. Dessert. Laurel told them that she’d bring dessert. More precisely, an apple pie. And not a store-bought pie. A home-made pie. The stage was set for disaster. Last night I…

After many years of suffering through 24 kbps dial-up internet “surfing” (more accurately, “slogging”), we got a WildBlue satellite system installed last Wednesday. It’s working great. I just logged on to three speed tests. Ground Control says I’m getting 556 kbps download, PCPitstop’s satellite bandwidth test says 576 kbps, and SpeakEasy clocked in at 579 kbps down and 151 kbps up (WildBlue is two-way satellite, no phone line involved). Real-world wise, yesterday I downloaded a 10.9 mb virus/spyware scan update through SystemSuite, the excellent utility system that replaced my piece-of-crap Symantec software. Via dial-up it used to take me over…