Preface: The following article is another repost from Hanuiloa, a blog geared towards slow living. I recently heard Jeff and Gena, my friends from Hawaii, who are expecting the arrival of their baby boy any day! This was my very first guest post, and is still one of my favorite posts that I've ever written. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
Pajamas on, teeth brushed, prayers said and out goes the light. Kids are finally in bed. As soon as his wife retires for the evening a man grabs some papers he had hurriedly stashed in a rarely used kitchen drawer earlier in the day and heads downstairs to his computer desk to study them more closely. Each letter, five in all, was from the same source, each exactly the same except for the account number. A change in policy was increasing the monthly payment of this account from 1% of the balance to 2.5% said each letter. Calculations are made to determine what the new monthly payments will be. The family's budget is checked, and rechecked. The man cradles his head with his hands and closes his eyes. Falling tears begin to wet the papers on the desk.
The man in the story is me, and this is the exact moment in June of 2009 that I realized that fourteen years of irresponsible financial living had finally caught up with my wife and I. Almost a full decade and a half of living far beyond our means by supplementing our income with credit cards had brought us to the edge of financial ruin. The next two weeks were a whirlwind of bank (dis)appointments, extremely honest discussions with my wife, and varying states of terror. When it was all said and done, we were enrolled in a debt management program and hopeful that we were on the right path. In order to hold together what we had, we knew that we had to seriously downsize our lives. No more buying things to make us feel better, or as rewards for the kids for doing something well. We needed to de-emphasize material things, and start simply enjoying spending time together and really connecting as a family.
I am the household cook and absolutely love to prepare food. As a former short order cook when I was in high school, an aspiring BBQer and an avid van of cooking reality shows, I know there there are many different techniques and environments in which to cook. Two of which I am extremely familiar.
First, there's the life of a short order cook at a local diner. As church services let out on Sunday morning you could see the steady stream of cars coming down main street and pulling into the parking lot. Suddenly, the kitchen would erupt into a frenzy of frying bacon, cracking eggshells and clanking plates. The three cooks on duty would be frantically running around trying to keep up with the flood of orders coming in. When the rush had ended, the kitchen would be wiped down and mopped. We would collapse in the break room; our heads still spinning.
On the other hand, you can cook like a backyard BBQer. I'm not talking about firing up the grill and throwing on some burgers and hot dogs. I'm talking about a hickory wood burnin', slow roastin', pork shoulder cookin' smoker. There's nothing “hurry up” about this process. The smoker gets fired up mid morning, and cooking a pork shoulder takes all day. The BBQer sits reclined in a lawn chair next to his smoker just soaking up the sun and the view off his backyard. On one side of his chair sits a pile of charcoal and wood, on the other a cooler filled with his favorite beer. A good smoker will hold it's temperature for a long time without having to feed it more fuel. He doesn't have to sit there, but he'll never admit it. Where would he rather be than basking in the smell of smouldering wood and roasting pork? There's no timetable as to when the mass of meat will be done. Each piece of meat is different. If you ask a seasoned BBQer how long the process will take, he'll shrug his shoulders and answer, “It's done when it's done.” Cook by temperature, not by time. The clock doesn't dictate meal time, the meat does.
The man in the story is me, and this is the exact moment in June of 2009 that I realized that fourteen years of irresponsible financial living had finally caught up with my wife and I. Almost a full decade and a half of living far beyond our means by supplementing our income with credit cards had brought us to the edge of financial ruin. The next two weeks were a whirlwind of bank (dis)appointments, extremely honest discussions with my wife, and varying states of terror. When it was all said and done, we were enrolled in a debt management program and hopeful that we were on the right path. In order to hold together what we had, we knew that we had to seriously downsize our lives. No more buying things to make us feel better, or as rewards for the kids for doing something well. We needed to de-emphasize material things, and start simply enjoying spending time together and really connecting as a family.
I am the household cook and absolutely love to prepare food. As a former short order cook when I was in high school, an aspiring BBQer and an avid van of cooking reality shows, I know there there are many different techniques and environments in which to cook. Two of which I am extremely familiar.
First, there's the life of a short order cook at a local diner. As church services let out on Sunday morning you could see the steady stream of cars coming down main street and pulling into the parking lot. Suddenly, the kitchen would erupt into a frenzy of frying bacon, cracking eggshells and clanking plates. The three cooks on duty would be frantically running around trying to keep up with the flood of orders coming in. When the rush had ended, the kitchen would be wiped down and mopped. We would collapse in the break room; our heads still spinning.
On the other hand, you can cook like a backyard BBQer. I'm not talking about firing up the grill and throwing on some burgers and hot dogs. I'm talking about a hickory wood burnin', slow roastin', pork shoulder cookin' smoker. There's nothing “hurry up” about this process. The smoker gets fired up mid morning, and cooking a pork shoulder takes all day. The BBQer sits reclined in a lawn chair next to his smoker just soaking up the sun and the view off his backyard. On one side of his chair sits a pile of charcoal and wood, on the other a cooler filled with his favorite beer. A good smoker will hold it's temperature for a long time without having to feed it more fuel. He doesn't have to sit there, but he'll never admit it. Where would he rather be than basking in the smell of smouldering wood and roasting pork? There's no timetable as to when the mass of meat will be done. Each piece of meat is different. If you ask a seasoned BBQer how long the process will take, he'll shrug his shoulders and answer, “It's done when it's done.” Cook by temperature, not by time. The clock doesn't dictate meal time, the meat does.
As the chef of your own life, which environment would you prefer? Would you rather hurry through life in such a frenzied state that you eventually collapse in exhaustion wondering where the time went? Or would you rather be soaking up the experience in your lawn chair enjoying the view?
We used to live like the short order cook. Many weekends we would have plans out of town. If we weren't going somewhere we were inviting our group of friends and neighbors over for a party. If we weren't driving somewhere on Saturday afternoon, we were in the kitchen for hours prepping for a huge dinner party.
I remember a particular Sunday afternoon when one our closest friends was over and my daughter was being rather rude. When asked what was the matter, my (at the time) seven-year-old daughter told our guest in a quite matter-of-fact tone that she was sick of her being at our house all the time. Not a shining example of good behavior, but it was an experience that was raised and discussed again as we were making changes in our lives. That our normally very well behaved daughter could act out in such a manner was certainly a cry for more quality family time. As we looked back, our kids were telling us in many ways, for a long time that they were unhappy with this fast paced, activity packed lifestyle.
We still get together with our friends, but not nearly as often. Just as frequently we have family movie night on the weekend. The kids pick out a movie, we make some popcorn and all sit on the couch and watch the show just the four of us. Instead of hurriedly packing the van to go somewhere on Saturday morning, we all sleep in. Even though my son is only a year away from being a teenager, he hasn't became too cool to run into our room with his sister and jump in bed with mom and dad for a “family snuggle.” My son and I play catch with a baseball or football when it's nice out, and dig snow tunnels when it's winter. My daughter and I curl up and read every night as I tuck her in, and again every morning when she wakes up. She has taken an interest in this blogging thing that I do, and asked if she could make her own website. I gave her one of those “Sure, we'll do that sometime,” kind of answers thinking eventually she'd forget about it. I completely misjudged that, as she badgered me until I caved in (she got her persistence from her mother). We're having the time of our lives putting together her website using a free of charge web building site.
Note that the most expensive activity in the proceeding paragraph is the renting of a movie from redbox for $1.
Over the last 19 months I've learned that there is absolutely nobody that I would rather spend time with than my family. I have re-learned why I fell in love with my wife. My son has my love for video games, science fiction, and sports. My daughter has a sense of humor and a creative side that convinces me that she will almost certainly end up on TV, or a stage somewhere.
I genuinely look forward to the weekends now. I can't wait to have two full days to spend with my family. I'm finally sitting in that lawn chair, enjoying the view. Pull up a chair, join me, and grab a beverage from the cooler – this is going to take all day.
I don't mind, there's nowhere I'd rather be.
We used to live like the short order cook. Many weekends we would have plans out of town. If we weren't going somewhere we were inviting our group of friends and neighbors over for a party. If we weren't driving somewhere on Saturday afternoon, we were in the kitchen for hours prepping for a huge dinner party.
I remember a particular Sunday afternoon when one our closest friends was over and my daughter was being rather rude. When asked what was the matter, my (at the time) seven-year-old daughter told our guest in a quite matter-of-fact tone that she was sick of her being at our house all the time. Not a shining example of good behavior, but it was an experience that was raised and discussed again as we were making changes in our lives. That our normally very well behaved daughter could act out in such a manner was certainly a cry for more quality family time. As we looked back, our kids were telling us in many ways, for a long time that they were unhappy with this fast paced, activity packed lifestyle.
We still get together with our friends, but not nearly as often. Just as frequently we have family movie night on the weekend. The kids pick out a movie, we make some popcorn and all sit on the couch and watch the show just the four of us. Instead of hurriedly packing the van to go somewhere on Saturday morning, we all sleep in. Even though my son is only a year away from being a teenager, he hasn't became too cool to run into our room with his sister and jump in bed with mom and dad for a “family snuggle.” My son and I play catch with a baseball or football when it's nice out, and dig snow tunnels when it's winter. My daughter and I curl up and read every night as I tuck her in, and again every morning when she wakes up. She has taken an interest in this blogging thing that I do, and asked if she could make her own website. I gave her one of those “Sure, we'll do that sometime,” kind of answers thinking eventually she'd forget about it. I completely misjudged that, as she badgered me until I caved in (she got her persistence from her mother). We're having the time of our lives putting together her website using a free of charge web building site.
Note that the most expensive activity in the proceeding paragraph is the renting of a movie from redbox for $1.
Over the last 19 months I've learned that there is absolutely nobody that I would rather spend time with than my family. I have re-learned why I fell in love with my wife. My son has my love for video games, science fiction, and sports. My daughter has a sense of humor and a creative side that convinces me that she will almost certainly end up on TV, or a stage somewhere.
I genuinely look forward to the weekends now. I can't wait to have two full days to spend with my family. I'm finally sitting in that lawn chair, enjoying the view. Pull up a chair, join me, and grab a beverage from the cooler – this is going to take all day.
I don't mind, there's nowhere I'd rather be.
