So, I've decided that for every minute of instructional YouTube video, I must reserve at least 5,000 hours for the task at hand. For example, installing a door takes about 3min 15 sec on the Tube, but in real life it takes a lot longer because you actually have to go out in the dark of night, cut down your own tree, create a saw-mill using your chainsaw and some leather strips you tore off your jacket, cut your own door, use a hand-lathe to make it beautiful, then hire 15 people to help you haul it into your house and hold it in place while you cut pieces out of the existing doorframe to make it fit, before finally ending up with ten hours of labor put into pasting that terrible "weather stripping" to keep the winter out.
Perhaps I exaggerate.
This is always my problem: they start the videos at some point well into the process, skipping the "simple" yet essential steps to get to the starting line (i.e. actually locating the engine part in question, how to demolish a perfectly good shower, which medication to take prior to starting bothersome activity in question, etc).
But I continue in my quest to be a DIY'er. So far this year, I've renovated my bathroom, cut some lumber, started several brush fires that immediately extinguished themselves because apparently gasoline is a terrible way to get large wet branches to burn, applied paint protection film on a new car, replaced shocks, sent those shocks back because they were the wrong ones, and returned several hundred dollars of equipment back to Amazon under perhaps questionable "Inaccurate Product Description" circumstances. But don't worry, Amazon, I actually ended up spending much more on your website by ordering the replacements of said products.
I took Braeden for a drive yesterday. We talked about our favorite memories; apparently, his first memory is of two-year old Emerson sitting naked on a bunch of Grandpa Oldroyd's towels, with Grandpa insisting that Emerson had "better not pee on those!". Braeden is getting so big, with so many wonderful qualities. I try to find time to actually converse with him; yesterday was fun, talking about camping, road, or other family trips we've taken and what he liked best about them. He said his favorite hike was about a year and a half ago, when we visited Table Rock in Medford. There were eagles, one of which we watched as it dove towards the ground with an eagle shriek that the kids mimicked for the next two weeks. Eliana refused to let us hold her on the hike, even though it was terribly muddy and she was basically only like three minutes old and could barely walk.
Braeden also mentioned how much he enjoyed the Thanksgiving 2017 cabin in Ochoco national forest, when we took the kids sledding in the wondrous depths of snow (about two inches, tops) with Grandmom and Grandad Busey.
It's strange, having those moments with your child. I'll make a joke and he'll laugh, and I find myself startled as I look up and recognize that my baby is maturing into somebody who gets sarcasm. That laugh is less of a giggly chortle, with the more resounding laugh of a big person. I'm glad the laugh is there, and hope it always is.
We bought a new car, a 2018 Toyota Highland Hybrid. We've named it Walnut (color is Toasted Walnut according to Toyota). When we were driving away from Wilsonville, Steph and I looked back and the boys were sitting on the very back row, hugging each other and sobbing with giant alligator tears that we were leaving Black Cherry Turbo behind (our excellent and beloved, but too-few-seats Kia Sorento). I had to do some drag-race style accelerations to get them excited about the new car.
The Sunset
11 months ago
