Byrdmouse is a devoted husband and father that says what's on his mind even if no one else agrees with him.

In fact, especially if no one else agrees with him

Homeward Bound

A strange phenomenon occurs at the end of a vacation. It is easily noticed if you work at the desk of a hotel (not that I ever have). People come in mad and angry. Not just because their vacation is over, but because they have to go home to the worries, problems and things they were happy to get a break from on the vacation. It was easy to forget about the problems for a few days, to shut off the brain, to go from worrying about work to worrying about how to play as hard as you work--or sometimes harder.

My grandfather, Daddy Byrd, used to tell me that if I wasn't happy doing what I did at work it was time to find another job. He was a true Master of All Trades, and had had many jobs at many different places. His father had run sawmills, and he had done every job there was to do in a sawmill. With his best friend as a partner, he owned a dock selling gas, ice, boats and motors (I like fun with an Evinrude). They got wiped out by a couple of hurricanes, and never rebuilt after one (I think it was Camille, but it may have been Betsy). He was the maintenance man at the Church of the Redeemer, doing everything from grass cutting to preparing the altar to refilling the Holy Water. He practiced what he preached.

My wife's father was the opposite. He hated every single day of the 29 years he worked at US Steel. If his former boss were on fire in front of him he wouldn't urinate to put him out. As a result, she thinks I am the luckiest man in the world because not only do I love what I do, I go in and come home with a smile on my face.

Now these two things, vacation and work don't seem to be related except that as I leave Florida to return to what pays the bills, I'm not mad thinking about the problems I needed a break from. It's not because I took care of them all before I left. It is certainly not that I don't have any. Constant prayer and giving it to God. He takes better care of me than I ever could. He gave me an great wife, three beautiful, talented daughters, my dream job, a house on the lake, a vehicle I love--even if it is a tight squeeze putting the 5 of us in it with luggage. It's easy being happy when you're this well taken care of, but rest assured it isn't always that way. And even when it's not I've learned that I still can't take care of myself as well as He can. Tough lesson to learn, but ever so worth it.

Abnormally Normal

Fish or Cut Bait but Pray Either Way