Thoughts

Time is all we have and what we constantly don't have enough of. I hear it daily it seems. "Not enough time"...

This image of my dad was taken around 2012, can't remember exactly, but it was the first time I had gone to visit my Gramps' "marker". He was cremated so this is just a memorial type deal. I don't remember what year he died but it was way before this was taken. I'd never visited the marker because I had no idea it existed. The Lawson's deal with death in an interesting way and it seems to be genetic and possibly a carry over from the mid-west in the early 20th century. We kind of just ignore it. We know it's inevitable and we know its sucks but there's no use talking about it. In fact, there's not much use in talking about anything. Just sit on the rocker and let it happen how it's going to happen. It's been almost six years since cancer got my dad and in that six years it took two of my uncles and is about to take my younger cousin. She's only in her 40's and has been dealing with it for quite some time. Of course, "they" don't really have an answer as to the cause but "they" have no problem telling her that she only has a couple of months.  When I started formulating this post in my head last week, the focus was all about what caused it and how to possibly prevent it and to plead with you guys to stop consuming this and that but, as I started writing, the "Lawson" in me kicked in and I came to the conclusion that there's no use talking about it. I know that's not true. I'm one of the few Lawson's that has had therapy to deal with shit but I still like to take my sweet time. So, for now, all I have to say is FUCKKKKK cancer.

Is there such a thing? I could look it up I suppose. This morning I woke up early with the normal pangs of guilt that I feel pretty much daily and I came to the conclusion that it's the reason I'm plagued by wanting to help everyone somehow...

"What do you do?" I hate this question. I never know what to say. In fact, it bothers me so much that I may have already written a post about it but here's another one. This time, however, the thought took me in a different direction. Why do we ask that question? What are we even asking? Are we asking how the person pays their bills? Are we asking what the person is good at? What they enjoy doing?...

I'm starting to realize that I've been hobbling my dear wife. See what I did there? With the title and the photo? Clever, eh? Anyways...

In my latest newsletter, I mentioned something about always being behind schedule with production and a long time member of our little community sent an amazing article...

Over a year ago, my daughter was leaving to head back to college. As we hugged goodbye, she whispered in my ear, “please don’t drink anymore mom, please stop drinking.”  Her words were the exact words I would say to my dad as a little girl, a teenager, an adult...

"Customers" isn't the right term. I also don't care for "clients". "Community" is more like it but that starts to sounds cultish. I'm struggling with what to call you guys because you've become more than "customers". Some of you anyway, the rest need to earn it...kidding...

One of the lessons from my dad that I'll never forget but, apparently, never listen to was "10-15 is the max". That was his sweet spot for making a product. Once he got to around a dozen or so, he'd get bored with the design...

One of the most interesting challenges we faced during our recent move was losing our daily routine. It's bizarre to me how thrown off you can be when you can't find the kitchen knives or your daily meals are all over the place...

Memory is funny. I have fond memories of Joshua Tree from my childhood but if I were really forced to sit down and hash it out, my sister and I were bored pretty much the majority of the time. I had a daily checklist I'd go through...BB gun, hang out in the gully, Lincoln Logs/army men and sometimes Peanuts puzzle...

There was a series called Northern Exposure in the 90's. I loved it. I love it. I just got Lisa into it. I was obsessed with the idea of living in Cicely, Alaska until I found out it was a fictional town...

Remember all of that hype about breathing and taking it all in stride I spewed yesterday? Well I've been awake since 2am stressed about this big move of ours. We head up today to get the keys and now it's real. So after an hour of laying and NOT breathing, I got up to let you know. It's not easy. This whole living thing is hard. That doesn't change but I sat and took some breaths and scrolled through some photos of our new town and I'm okay. Hopefully Lisa won't read this.Keep breathing.

Stop personalizing anxiety. I don’t recall how or if we talked about anxiety when I was younger but it seems the new trend is to personalize it. “My anxiety”. I hear this constantly now...

Bittersweet is probably the best word for it. I was born and raised in Southern California and Lisa has been here for the majority of her life (she was born in Northern Ca but moved here when she was four) but, the cost of living here has finally pushed us out...