I find it interesting that the Kenai Peninsula Borough (where I live) is geographically larger than ten states (nine, if one only counts land area). Granted, most of that area is protected as national parks, preserves, forests or wildlife refuges. Out of those ten (or nine) states, only one has a lower population than the entire state of Alaska. Fewer than 60,000 people currently live in the area even though it contains the cities of Soldotna, Kenai, Homer, Seward, Kachemak, and Seldovia. That's only two-fifths the size of the population of my home county of Jackson in Michigan even though the Kenai Peninsula Borough is over 34 times larger. Most surprisingly, the entirety is connected to the rest of the world by only one road (and multiple harbors and airports).

I like the isolated nature of the Kenai, yet we are still relatively well-connected to the rest of the world. Janelle keeps saying that we need to take more advantage of the many outdoor activities that the Kenai presents. I agree, and I hope that we will be able to get out and do more soon. 

Today was the first time in over thirty years that I wore contact lenses. I wore them for a little over a year in high school relatively soon after getting glasses for the first time. At the time I cared a great deal about my appearance, but tired quickly of the care and cleaning of them, not to mention my lack of enjoyment over poking my eyes every morning.

Over the years, I have contemplated wearing them again, not for the sake of fashion but do to their practicality. While the mask requirements this past year made me start seriously considering them, it was my decision to start skiing that really tipped the scales in favor of contact lenses. It will also be nice to wear sunglasses again without paying a separate set of prescription glasses.

One issue is that I wear progressive bifocals and contact lenses have some difficulty in replicating that ability. The sample contacts that I wore today made reading anything up close very difficult as my vision seemed to double as I concentrated on objects that were closer to my face. This doubling did not matter if I only used one eye. Oddly, the doubled images were clear; they just fuzzed themselves out, making them hard to see. I should also note that window screens seem to be harder to see through too.

Otherwise, I actually enjoyed wearing the contacts again. For the first time in thirty years, I could clearly see my periphery. That might sound a bit ridiculous, but it affected me profoundly, as though the entire world came into focus again. I felt like I did the first time I went outside after getting my first pair of glasses. On an strange side note: I remember being criticized before I ever wore glasses for a drawing of mine that showed the leaves of a deciduous tree as just squiggles from different colored pencils. I didn't understand the complaint as that was how the tree actually looked to me. When I first wore glasses, I looked up at the trees and could see the individual leaves at a distance for the first time that I could remember, and I only then understand the complaint about the earlier drawing that I had made.

My eye doctor has ordered a different prescription that will hopefully deal with the near-vision issues. Until they come in, he wants me to keep using these sample lenses to see how I feel about them. I really hope that it works out.

We have a home phone line for possible emergency situations and for when the older boys aren't answering their cell phones. We've had this number for the over five years, but still continue to get calls for the company that had the number before us. It's a frustrating situation, particularly because most of the people who are calling are elderly and you can tell that they are frustrated by the situation. 

It does not help that Google still had our number listed as the number for the business until last year. In fact, there was a while when I couldn't even find a working number through an Internet search. Still, the issue has been fixed since then, so I don't understand why I would get a call for them again today. 

After months of the liturgical color being white (or purple before that) we've moved into the green of Ordinary Time. Green often symbolizes growth and life, making it fitting that it is during Ordinary Time that our Gospel readings come from Jesus' ministry. By listening to His teachings, we find ourselves growing in understanding and love.

It is also fitting that our readings today dealt with natural elements, specifically trees, in the first reading, psalm, and Gospel. The green growth of nature parallels our growth in faith. Starting from humble beginnings, like a seed, our faith can grow to dazzling heights if planted in good ground with rich soil. Much like tending a garden, we are tasked with tending our own faith as we go through life. We need to nourish it with spiritual readings and reflections, pruning practices that inhibit our growth. 

Certainly, plants and faith can and do spring up without careful tending. However, this is also growth which we can deliberately build rather than leaving it to chance. By being strongly rooted, we are in a better position to help others. The trees of our faith then become a haven for all who would seek shelter.

Until today, I had never been in a kayak before. I've been in canoes, rafts, pontoons, and paddle boats, but never a kayak. In truth, I've been a little scared of them. They seem so flimsy and easily tipped. Most videos I've seen of them have the kayaker rolling the kayak. I will say that I was a bit on edge throughout my experience--an experience which I otherwise enjoyed.

Janelle has been wanting kayaks for a while now, but as we do not have lakefront property (that pond does not count), getting kayaks also meant getting the means to transport them to a body of water. One of the reasons that Janelle wanted an SUV was to get a roof rack and tow hitch. However, the Honda Pilot that we decided on purchasing as we liked it the best had neither of those things. After a couple of years of putting it off, I finally took the Pilot to the dealer and had the roof rack and hitch installed this past Monday. I should note that Janelle bought the kayaks about a month earlier (before they were gone) and had a friend drop them off at our house. 

As we still do not have a trailer, we figured out how to load them on the kayak carriers that another friend of Janelle's installed yesterday. The process is a little cumbersome, and I'm interested to know how it works when Janelle goes out with people other than me. Currently, her plan includes putting our garage's step-stool in the Pilot so she can reach the ratchets for the straps. I have a feeling that we will have a trailer before long.

All said, I'm glad that we got it to work out. As I think of it, these are the first boats that I have ever owned. I do enjoy spending time just on the water. And while I would prefer a more stable pontoon, I think that I can get into kayaking.

I've mentioned before that I've picked out the songs that I would prefer to be sung at my funeral mass. I was going to use one of them at the funeral that attended today as a cantor. Unfortunately, as I was planning and practicing the music, I discovered that this song is not allowed within our diocese any longer. The composer is involved in multiple sexual abuse scandals and our bishop rightly decided that this composer's music will not be allowed in any services at our diocese. I had not realized that one of my personal funeral songs was written by him (I had not known about his misconduct at the time that I picked the song). 

Thankfully, he did not compose the other songs that I have chosen. Also, there are still many, many great songs that I could pick. Still, I've had the now disgraced song running through my head for the past several days. 

As I have said before, I love playing around with accents, but I am horrible about doing so consistently.

Rowen and I just started reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Throughout the past three books, I've been trying to give each character (except for George and Fred) a distinct voice and/or accent. In general, I try to hold to my best (which aren't all that good--except for Dobby) impressions of the actors in the movies with a few exceptions--I'm particularly proud of my over-the-top snobbish voice for Draco Malfoy. Unfortunately, the opening of book 4 included a group conversation in a tavern between a group of one-time characters. I thought that I was doing fairly well, when Rowen started laughing and said, "Dad, you made that woman sound like Ron."

Sadly, I'm not doing much better with my adventures with Vohnkar--the halfling (but don't call him that) barbarian in my D&D group. Partially in homage to Pippin for Lord of the Rings and partially because I have Vohnkar wearing a kilt (because he sometimes grows a tail when he rages), I decided to use a Scottish-like accent when I'm playing him. Sometimes, I get it without a problem, but more often then not, he ends up sounding Russian. I was also running an absent player's character today, and I tried to give his character a cheerfully youthful voice, but I ended up sounding like Dudley Do-Right (rather than trying to correct, I embraced it).

These little upsets don't stop me from trying to use accents, and having fun while I'm doing it.

I've started several different posts today, but none of them really went anywhere. The issue isn't that I have nothing to say, but rather I do not have the desire to fully invest in the topics that have come to mind. With that, I'm going to just use this placeholder post to say: You are loved and have meaning in the lives of those around you, likely in ways that you will never fully understand. Take care of yourself, and take care of the world around you.

According to the planning program at Walden, I will not be able to complete my doctorate this term (which ends in August), but I will likely have it completed before the end of the year. Despite this bit of frustrating information that I learned this week (I had really hoped to be done before the beginning of the upcoming school year), I made a major breakthrough today in my data analysis. It is not a change in understanding the data, but rather I figured out how to use the data analysis program in a way that makes it easier for other people to see what I have seen (if that makes sense). Basically, it helps cut down a great deal of work that I need to do.

​Now, if I could only get it to write my dissertation for me …

I don't have a will. Today, I witnessed a harsh lesson in the importance of having some sort of will in writing, if not one formally completed with the help of a lawyer. While Janelle and I have conversed on this matter in the past, it is not something that we have talked about--let alone written down--lately. Especially with children involved, some sort of clear line of custody should be established.

This is not something that I like thinking about, but that I do from time to time. In general, I would want Janelle to have full control of any decisions regarding my remains and my possessions. 

I will have no use for my body anymore, and I do not care what happens to it. My Grandma Marks was buried in a nice set of pajamas and that sounds comfortable to me. I would also prefer that people did not spend much money on the box (or bag) in which my body is disposed. If my organs or tissues are any use to anyone for medical or scientific purposes, they can have them. On the question of being buried or cremated, I leave that to those who live after me as to whether they want a physical location to visit, or they want to have my remains more portable. I've always been partial to being buried under a sapling, but the symbolism would royally suck if that little tree sickened and died.

I do not plan on taking anything with me. I will have no need for any of my possessions, unlike the superstitious kings of old. I'll let Janelle decide what to do with them. In the slight chance that she has also moved on to eternal life, I ask my children to divide up what they want (as equally as possible) and distribute or toss the rest. 

When it comes to our children, should Janelle and I both have died before Rowen and Connor have reached adulthood, I ask that Rowen and Connor be consulted about their preference for who should raise them and where. There is no one in my friends or family whom I do not trust to raise them well. I only ask that they continue to be raised in the Catholic faith. 

I don't know how binding this is, but I wanted to get something down.

Jesus provided everything for our salvation. Most religions of the time required a blood sacrifice, and Christ provides that for us. He willingly gives His Body and Blood for the sake of our salvation, a feat that we recognize every time we take the Eucharist.

In our communion with Him, we make not just a spiritual and mental connection with Him, but a physical one as well. In doing so, we become one with Him and He with us. Thus, we are more closely connected to Him than any other relationship we could have, truly enfolded into His everlasting love.

It didn't take long, but I already have tan lines and today definitely added to them. We got a second wooden swing for our fire pit. The first one took nearly three hours to put together while being mauled by mosquitos. Today's adventure started in a similar manner, except that I encouraged Connor to build a fire in the fire pit to fend them off. He did so using flint and steel--and no accelerant--to ignite it. We kept the fire going most of the day, and it did an astounding job at keeping the mosquitos away.

I also put together the two small tables that matched the wooden swings. Meanwhile, Janelle spent most of the day getting her summer flower display set up as well as planting the potato plants that she was recently given. The flowers certainly change the overall look of our yard dramatically.

As long as we had a fire going, we roasted hot dogs and sausages for dinner and marshmallows for our dessert of s'mores. For entertainment, we played bocce ball. The dogs wanted to join in, but River does not listen once loose and Starbuck had already had plenty of frisbee time earlier, so we left them in their area. The way they were whining, you would have thought that we were torturing them.

We also opened most of the window in the house to air it out and only now started to shut them. The sun had been shining until only recently when this sudden bank of clouds rolled in. The temperature never reached 70, but I would not have wanted it any warmer. It was a nearly perfect day for being outside. 

During our sojourn in Michigan, Janelle was introduced to the Europe version of the Ticket to Ride series of board games. The 1910 version has been one of our favorite casual games since we purchased it three years ago. We picked up the shorter New York version a couple of years ago, but did not like it as much. That had been enough for me to feel that all of the games were just mindless derivatives of the original and thus ignore them.

However, even though Janelle did not finish a game, she clearly liked it enough to pick up a copy from Freddy's after work. We played the game after dinner, and I have to admit that, not only was it different enough to be worth the purchase, but I think I like it better than the original. The addition of ferries and tunnels makes for a more strategic use of cards, while the limits on long routes and the inclusion of stations make completing routes on the tickets much more feasible and not nearly as frustrating. The city names take some getting used to, but they do seem to be more geographically accurate than some of the American locations on the first game.

I would still recommend the original (with the larger cards from the 1910 edition) for people new to the series, but the Europe version is certainly worth playing.

Rowen is the last of our children with whom we still have a bedtime ritual. While he will occasionally put himself to bed, if he gets too tired and doesn't want to bother anyone, he still usually comes up to either me or Janelle, asking if we can put him to bed. Our ritual is rather short with a couple of prayers and verbal reminders that we love one another. 

Sometimes, Connor still joins in the ritual, but that has become less frequent since he became a teenager and has pushed for a later bedtime than Rowen (who prefers to go to bed and then wake up earlier). It basically went that way for each of our children as they reached that age, and it will likely happen with Rowen in the next few years. However, for now at least, we still have this nightly ritual.

In fact, he's probably ready for bed now (summer break usually leads to the later bedtimes).