On Being Thankful

By G. E. Shuman         

November is a month, for some of us here in the north, of settling in, of staying put, and of thinking thoughts of the soon-coming winter. For me, any spare time in October was spent doing the chores which make November’s settling in possible, like getting air conditioners put away, leaky doors fixed, and windows locked up tight in this hundred-plus year old house my family calls home. Leaves from our two huge maples are faithful to cover the lawn each autumn, and always get raked away, just before the rakes, themselves, get put away and replaced by snow shovels, under the carport.  Each year I spend some time making sure the old snow blower still starts, and is greased up, fueled up, and ready for the weather to come.  I don’t mind doing these chores that make my home as efficient and comfortable as possible when the bad weather really hits.

            I always seem to get a bit contemplative at this tucked-in holiday season, especially, it seems, in the past few years. This old house is not as full of family and their belongings as it once was. Sometimes that is a difficult thing for me to think about.  I’m alone here more often than I am comfortable with being, and am thankful for the chance to fill some of the evening hours, when my wonderful wife is at work, with writing for you, dear readers.  So, thank you for easing those hours, and for the chance to express a few thoughts that many of us, even though we are strangers to each other, likely still share.

Even now, as I sit here in silence, it is cold outside the windows of this house on the hill, and it is very dark out there.  The winds of one more late fall evening beat against the aging glass panes, but fortunately, those winds have always stayed on the outside of this place.  For this I am thankful.  Indeed, it is quite warm in here, and cozy, tonight.  The furnace works well, and there is enough fuel, although, sometimes, I still light the fireplace, as I did when the kids were young, just because. 

            All of this contemplation is not always a sad thing to me, but is, sometimes, a chance for reflection on the things my wife and I have done this year, and, reaching back further, the things we have done throughout all of the years that we have lived in this place. Obviously, without her, there would be no ‘we’, and being with her is, thankfully, where this all began, for me. We were so blessed to raise five tremendously talented children in this old place, for which I am, truly, thankful. You know… those amazing people are as diverse as any five children could ever be, and I would still do anything at all for any one of them.

 Also, so far, thirty-three Christmas trees have graced a stand, and have been placed in one corner or another of one of our front rooms; uncounted late-night hours have been spent wrapping the gifts that would fill that corner for each year’s coming December 25^th.  Seemingly countless numbers of birthday cakes, Easter hams, Thanksgiving turkeys, and other celebratory foods and fun have been enjoyed here, too.  

I have been, truly and unquestionably, very blessed. Having a beautiful, faithful, Christian wife, wonderful children and grandchildren, and a warm home to share with them all makes for quite a life.  What more could a man ever ask for?

            I’m not at all sure why the words that have assembled on my computer screen this evening have done so as they have.  When I write, that is often the case.  (I guess I’ll have to go back and read them, to see what they say.)  I think, tonight, it is just because I can’t help but tell you that I am very thankful for my life, and for the people in it; for what I have, and for what I have had.  I hope you feel the same way about your life, too.

Unless you are a member of my family, or of my small group of friends, I don’t know anything about your beliefs.  How could I?  In any case, I will let you know mine. I believe in God, in His son Jesus, in our nation, and very much, in family. I also believe it is important to recognize, and to be grateful for, all that we have in this cornucopia of a country that we share, especially in this contemplative, settled-in time of year.

 I hope you will take a few minutes, as the holidays approach, not to stop and smell the roses, as there are few roses outside right now, but to stop and sense the fullness of what your life is, and of what you have experienced, so far.  And, in a word, to be thankful.

            Happy Thanksgiving!  

G. S.

Snow Tires

By G. E. Shuman

            Dear Readers, I first published this column a few years ago, but it seems to be that time again.

There are parts of the usual ritual of fall that I don't really mind... and then there are snow tires. “Tucking in” for fall is just something I do every year; checking the house for leaks around the outside doors, removing window air conditioners, arranging for fuel deliveries, and so on. And then there are snow tires. I just hate snow tires.

I realize, and I appreciate, the fact that we have these special tires to make driving here in the north at least a bit less life-threatening, but there is no way that getting those things put on my cars every year is anything less than miserable. Firstly, every year you have to figure out where the best place is to mount them. (I know, you mount them on your wheels. Ha Ha. I mean, what garage is the

best place to have them mounted AT.) I have sometimes had tires mounted, and the first time on the highway realize that someone forgot to

put a wheel weight on. Oh darn. Silly garage man. This is not a big deal, unless you think it's a big deal making another appointment at the garage, and then waiting and waiting for your weight, as the man runs back and forth from balancing your tire to pumping gas for someone, to answering the phone while ringing up beer and potato chips for a guy standing at the checkout in the garage's attached convenience store.

One factor in choosing a garage is the price they will charge for installing the tires, but this is not the only factor. (Please see the previous paragraph.) One other factor is the time it takes to get the job done.  A local car dealership (I will mention no names here.) that I have paid in the past to swap my tires, keeps you waiting in their waiting-and-waiting room, for at least two hours. It doesn't seem to matter if you are having your engine replaced or a light bulb changed... it just always takes at least two hours. They do have a nice TV to watch, but I'd rather spend a day on my couch than on theirs. I think that a lot of car dealerships are this way. Maybe they think that you will just decide: “Well, since I'm sitting on this nice couch, watching this nice TV, surrounded by all of these nice, shiny, new showroom cars (which are evidently watching the nice TV with me,) I might as well buy one, so that this is not a complete waste of my time.”  I really do think those dealership people think that way.

This fall there are three cars in my driveway... which means that there were three tire appointments to make, and twelve chances for a wrongly-balanced tire, and twelve more chances that one of them won't hold air or have some other dumb, irritating, and time-consuming problem.   Not to seem pessimistic, but this means that I have at least twenty four chances of having to take one of the cars in to have a tire looked at, again. What better odds could there be than that? Fortunately, this year I have a plan. The plan is called 'my son.' I'm not the kind of dad who feels that he has 'paid his dues,' and that it's someone else's turn to do some of the dirty, tedious jobs. That is, I'm not that kind of dad... until it comes to snow tires. In the case of those things, it's payback time for Dad. This year I may just not be the one to lug snow tires up from the basement and wait in some waiting room 'til my hair turns gray. (It's a bit late for that, anyway.) Truthfully, I really do hate snow tires.

Spring will, hopefully, be here before we know it. So will the time to spend another fifty dollars or so to have those ol' snow tires removed again, from EACH car. I have recently heard a saying I had never heard before. It is that “The outcome of a rain dance has a lot to do with timing.” That has nothing to do with the subject of snow tires, but I thought it was profound, and wanted to share it with you.  (Minds tend to wander with advancing age.)  I will say that your snow tire changeover has a least a little to do with timing, but more to do with where you take your car.  I think the best place for me to take my car this year is somewhere in Florida.