bierkergaard

I was driving the back-way home through the woods from work the other day on a road that meanders roughly along the Susquehanna River with all of its twists and turns. There isn't a lot of traffic there and I dodge suburban congestion of the other route. I figure that I drive the forested route at least two hundred times a year (I do go the other way in the morning sometimes because it is so early that the traffic is sparse). So, after 25 years, I am around 5000 times that I have driven this woodsy way. Yet, if I pay mind to it, I always see something new. Until the economic downturn of a few years ago, the woods were starting to be taken over by new construction. Since then, things have slowed but telltale sewer upgrades are happening and that predicts that the lumberyard that owns all of the hundreds of acres of trees is going to sell to the highest bidder soon. It makes me sad, for as the trees go, so do people. We literally need each other to breathe. Not that this is real...

The other week, I was hanging out in my kitchen minding my business and without warning the C.S. framed illustration that I had received from good friends this last Christmas, affixed to the wall by that 3M sticky device and hanger, came off the wall and the portrait crashed into my kitchen table. I was pleased that the glass didn't shatter. I think my box of cigars softened the blow. It wasn't one of those cheap Chinese knock-off picture hangers. It was the real 3-M deal. The portrait, glass, and frame, aren't very heavy, measuring both less that one foot in distance in regards to the X and Y axis. But, crash it did. I surmise that it was because the kitchen wall is painted with semi-gloss paint which is slicker as it has a compound in it that resists water and allows it to be scrubbed which is of importance with the kitchen water vapors and messes emanating from my latest culinary masterpiece.  I was wary of putting the C.S. Lewis illustration back up in the kitch...

After a very difficult week where one of our student's passed away, I came home Friday night fairly emotionally concussed. There is really only one therapeutic response for this...sleep. My mind needs to rest and rejuvenate in total silence. After about an hour and change of deep rest, I was ready to roll and do something. The neurons had cooled. One of my good buddies had FB Messaged me while I dozed, announcing that it was the weekend. He knows me well enough to realize that I was napping. It is fairly common on Friday afternoons. If I don't nap, then a quiet night at home is usually my next best option. School counseling typically takes a pound of flesh from me, and sometimes much more. This was one of those weeks.   Thus, we planned to hang out with the agreement that it needed to be outside and include beer. So, we decided upon Columbia Kettleworks, our go-to in this part of the county. Close to my haus, great beer, and the town needs cash. As we sipped our brews...

Everything but the kitchen sink.  Etymology:   B ased  on  the   idea   that  if  you   brought   many   things  to  someone,  a  kitchen   sink  is  one  of  the   last   things   you   would   bring   because  it is  difficult  to  move. Copyright © Cambridge University Press 2003. Yesterday, I was scrubbing down the shower stall in my house. Through years of neglect and disassociation, over 50 years in the making, I have a high degree of tolerance for grime as compared to most humans. I have gotten better in recognizing that others may not have the same filth fortitude as I, so I have made strides in being sensitive that my ways cause others to want to hurl.  With the males of the immediate family coming to my estate in Columbia in early June, where my dad is the only person who has a higher tolerance ...

* From McLaren's Commentary This week my heart has been aching. It hurts now as I write... I have a congenital heart murmur condition and it would probably be prudent for me to have it examined again since I am on the other side of 50. As a teen-athlete getting physicals for school sports the attending doctor would always react to my heart murmur in the stethoscope with the question, "Are you allowed to play sports?" I and my mom would have to assure the physicians that all was cool. When I have a lot on my mind, my heart tends to hurt. One thing weighing on me is teaching a class of 26 ninth graders "Study Skills" with all the joy and suffering therein. 45 days, 80 minutes a day. This along with the day-in/day-out school counselor responsibilities which are usually fairly demanding. I am grateful for the opportunity to help kids with their lives but have decided to not teach just study skills, which would be akin to having both mine and their teeth d...

I was reminded by Facebook Memories that it has been a year since being out at the Los Angeles Festival of Books held on the campus of USC. Going to the Fest helped me zero in on writing in what are my niche areas of craft (food, beer, and coffee) in the larger context of culture with some theological and philosophical seasoning. Still haven't received that traffic ticket for making a right turn without first stopping. I got that photo flash... In the 365 days since L.A., I have had four essays published in reputable magazines with national audiences. I am even getting paid or in the case of my Jamaica coffee essay, bartered with the editor to be paid in coffee beans! That was cool! Coffee Lovers Magazine is out of Seattle of course and it has been fun to delve into that cup of coffee culture more deeply. My essay about Jamaica Blue Mountain and it legendary coffee is sooooo loooong that it is going to be published in three or four installments in upcoming issues in additi...

Today, around 12:00 at church, my Facebook Messenger dinged. I swear I have turned off notifications but I think every time it does an update, it reverts back. In this case it was helpful because it gave me a heads up that I might have missed. A couple I have know for close to a decade who I don't see as often as in times past (we attend different churches and other variables) let me know that they were heading to my part of Lancaster County to ride their bikes on the rail-trail along the Susquehanna river. "Heck, yeah," I thought, "I am in." It was a beautiful early Spring morning/afternoon. On the cool side, pristine, and sunny. A perfect combination on the WTO (Weather To Order) touchscreen. This couple is younger and fitter than I, but the rail-trail is is only at a slight grade incline on the way up. We did go off trail for 5-6 miles in search of the White Cliffs of Conoy only to find the road to it closed and blocked with signage stating that tresp...