When the Helper Needs Help

Guest blog by J, BHD’s twin brother and M, BHD’s big brother, the doctor

Our poor ol’ brother broke the lower end of his fibula in his right leg, near the ankle. Fortunately, the ankle is fine. Being a complex joint, breaking the ankle itself would probably mean surgical procedures and a very lengthy recovery. A broken fibula is bad, but it will heal by itself and no surgery will be required. (M saw the x-rays through incredible marvels of technology, and confirms BHD’s doctor’s observations).

He was fortunate to be wearing boots that provided strong ankle protection when he fell. Had he been wearing sneakers or regular shoes, then it is likely that he would have broken his ankle and his life would be changed forever. For us, as his brothers, we are now convinced that his boot-wearing probably saved him months if not years of pain and inconvenience.

For now, while he is uncomfortable when he is waiting for the pain and swelling to subside, he is being well-tended by his partner and the older folks I met when I visited with him over the years. From what we hear, his partner is providing the TLC that our brother requires, including help with bathing and changing clothes.

Our brother’s older friends are taking shifts to spend time with him during the week while his partner is at work. Our brother told us both in a rather emotional moment on a recent phone chat that “paying it forward is being paid back.” That is, he has put a lot of time and attention into caring for his senior friends, and now they are enjoying being needed, and helping him.

All of us who love him have told him only to say, “thank you” and not say that he is undeserving. If anyone deserves kind, caring attention, it is our brother (“big” to J, “gentle” to M).

He worries that all of the people he cares for will need help that he can’t provide during his recovery period. So from afar, we are helping to organize an in-fill capacity to provide his services while he recovers. Our sister will begin to look after our aunt, and a couple nephews will do what is required to care for some of his senior friends who need physical help that our brother, until now, has provided without fanfare or attention. That’s just how he is.

Believe me, accepting the role of being helped is not easy for the helper our brother is. Our role, living so far away but being close to him as brothers, is to help him accept that, and to know what he says all the time is true–

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

The Horrors of a Hobbler

My friend who felt guilty because she thought that she caused my fall which resulted in a broken bone in my leg near my ankle came over this morning to fuss over me, but she had to leave at 11:00am. My next caretaker was due at 11:30. No problem; I can be by myself for a half-hour.

No sooner did she leave, then the man in Brown (UPS Delivery) pulled up. I hobble over to the door and he put a box inside, which I can’t bend down and pick up, because I can’t bend down with crutches! I looked like someone who would have appeared in an I Love Lucy show, with all the gyrations I was going through to try to lift up that box.

I began kicking the box down the hall, when the doorbell rang again. This time, it was FedEx. He didn’t wait; he left a big envelope that contained pain pads for my partner on the front stoop. Pain pads? My partner requires these for his disability. I thought it was oddly juxtaposed that here I am in such pain, and I have to retrieve a box from the front porch with pain pads in it!

I began trying to pick up that package up when I dropped not one, but both of my crutches and then lost my balance and settled down to my left knee (fortunately, I didn’t fall). There I am in PJs out on my front porch, cold, and in pain! I betcha the nebby neighbor across the street was watching on his private video system and laughing his head off.

TG my next helper arrived early. Imagine, an 80-year-old woman trying to help a 52-year-old bearish guy up off the ground. Somehow through the use of leverage and ingenuity, with a dab of patience, we made it. I got resettled into my comfy chair and got ice back on the ankle. But for a while there, I was afraid my partner would come home to find me frozen out on the lawn!

Sheesh… no more doorbells for me!

Check back for updates on The Horrors of the Hobbler, a new mini-series suggested by my best friend, AZ, to be written, published, and sold shorty. LOL!

Painfully Annoyed

So the doc says the ankle fibula bone in my leg break is clean, but severe. The swelling remains pretty bad, and the pain is awful. I don’t have much of a tolerance for pain, but I am more annoyed with my sudden lack of mobility than anything else.

My partner, bless his caring soul, has been doing so much to help me. Thank goodness we have an open floor plan, and I can rest comfortably in our family room with the computer and just rest. So yes, I am resting! It had to be something like this to get me up and off my feet and stop running around all the time.

My best friend, AZ, suggested that I put a note on the door — “I’m home, but pardon me for not answering. Come on in!” More food has arrived than we will ever be able to eat, but no complaints there. The outpouring of concern — both here at home from my senior pals and my family — and on the Internet with my Boot buds and blogger pals — has been incredible, and very much appreciated.

Meanwhile, the pain drugs are working, at least to allow me to have a good night’s sleep last night. Foot up on four pillows, turned sideways in the bed. Quite a sight!

My partner went to work today, but M will be here at 7, E at 10, F at 12, P at 2, and L from 4 ’til bedtime. They won’t let me be alone, and I have no worries about a need for a thing.

The pain drug makes me groggy and emotionally weak. I get tears in my eyes at the slightest things. Calls, email messages, visits… all so sweet and warmly appreciated. But they make me cry sometimes. A good cry; nonetheless, it confuses my partner when he sees me with tears rolling down my cheeks, because he doesn’t know if I am in pain or just being emotional.

If I don’t reply to a message you have sent right away, know that it was received and I thank you for it, from the bottom of my heart. Soon enough, I’ll be back in form, up-to-speed, and booted once again. But for now, rest… rest… rest.

Life is short: pay it forward and it comes back with love.

Casserolled

My friend, “M”, who I was escorting yesterday when I took my tumble, fell, and broke my ankle leg is taking things personally. I wish she didn’t feel responsible for my being a klutz. Heck, these things happen!

She spent most of the day with me today, insisting on helping out, even though my partner was home. But he just let her take over, which made her feel better.

My friend got the word out and my elder buddies have been streaming to my house dropping off lots of food. I am ankle deep in wall-to-wall casseroles. I have run out of room for all this food, but I can’t turn it away — not after someone went to all the trouble to make something for me! My partner has put some of it on ice in coolers. I wish I could eat some of these dishes, like jambalaya, soups, and zucchini dishes. Alas, my chronic colitis won’t allow it. But it’s the thought that counts, right?

“M” stayed the whole day, even while my partner took me back to the doctor for a follow-up evaluation. When we arrived home this afternoon, ten more plates and boxes of goodies had been delivered. Honestly, I don’t know what we are going to DO with all this food!

These people are so sweet to go out of their way to help this one-booted klutz. I give a great deal of credit to my partner for putting up with the constant doorbell ringing and disruptions. He has been right there, at my side, for whatever I need. Bless him, and bless my senior buds. They’re the best!

Life is short: what goes around comes around!

Broken Ankle

Sunday afternoon, I was escorting an elderly friend into her home. Sidewalks were slick with rain. She began to fall. I caught her but fell myself. I broke my right ankle lower fibula, according to x-rays at the urgent care facility.

I visited orthopedic specialist on Monday and was told that I have to wait about a week for the swelling to go down before I can get a cast. No cast, no walking! I’m stuck at home for a while.

Fortunately, my elderly friend was not hurt. My partner is taking good care of this old broken-down one-booted klutz. TG that I can telecommute.

More later.

Life is short: even for us klutzes!

We Are Equal Yet Different

I received an email from one of my loyal blog readers, BootedPaul, with whom I have enjoyed exchanging email for years. He wrote to me with observations about some recent posts on this blog.

He said: …[it] has been my interest in having both partners equal and able to share equally. It is not a relationship that is discussed or promoted very much, but you certainly need appreciation for letting others know that it can be done and is enjoyable.

Thanks, Paul. I have written many blog posts about my partner and our relationship. We are indeed equals in our relationship and how we share our lives which are closely intertwined. We have been together for almost 17 years. During that time, we have grown and developed a bond that is as endearing as it is enduring.

There’s a lot of stuff on the Internet about gay relationships. I see many postings from gay men who talk about enjoying a dominant/submissive relationship. The “sub” does the work, the “dom” directs. Or one man in the relationship is the “Daddy” while the other is the “Pup.” Or the bitchy queens (‘nuf said about them.) Our relationship as equals is not often viewed on the ‘net — though I think there are a number of us “equal relationship couples” out there (some of whom I have met) but few post stuff about their relationship. It’s not really “news” for a blog or Forum posting when things are going well, is it?

Both my partner and I are independent, forward-looking men. We are as comfortable in our own skin as we are in leather, jeans, or nothing at all. We know who we are. We’re not perfect; we continue to learn from our mistakes. But what makes our relationship work are four things: trust, respect, listening, and love.

I trust my partner with my life; with my finances; with my insecurities, wants, and desires. I can be — and am — as honest with him as he is with me. We never do or say anything that can cause us to doubt the other’s veracity. If I go visit my very handsome best friend in Phoenix, my partner knows all about it and wishes me a good time. If I meet a visiting Boot Buddy for lunch or dinner, my partner is informed ahead of time and then asks me how it went (he is always invited, but he is not the social sort.)

Our mutual trust particularly extends to finances. I handle “the books” and every few weeks review our joint finances with my partner so he knows where every penny of our combined funds has been spent, allocated, or budgeted.

We both recognize that many relationships (gay or straight) have failed over fights about money, or when one partner steals from the other. While my partner is paid a higher salary than I am, it doesn’t matter to either of us. We contribute equal portions of our income to keeping our household and lifestyle secure and debt-free.

I respect my partner as my intellectual equal. We may have had different upbringings and formal education; nonetheless, I respect that he has thoughts, ideas, and interests that are valuable and contribute to my life-long learning. He does the same with me. Again, a difference is that my formal education achieved a much higher level than his; yet, he is my equal and we respect that we each can and want to learn from one another.

Respect is also demonstrated in how we speak with each other. How we listen, and how we respond. Never in a million years would either of us belittle the other — publicly or privately. My partner is a man who commands respect by how he acts and who he is. He would say the same thing about me (in fact, he did, the other night when he watched a public meeting that I led).

Listening is not often mentioned, but is important to describe about what makes a relationship work. Gay guys tend to blab a lot. Goodness knows I’ve been guilty of that. My partner has always been a superb listener. He hears things not said. He responds to cues about which he becomes aware because he’s not trying to be the talker. My partner has taught me a lot over our years of being together — shut up and listen! You might learn something! How true… how true. I make a strong effort to listen to what my partner says, so I can hear what’s important to him, and respond thoughtfully. My partner can do that in his sleep. I need more practice (smile).

Love? That’s the age-old enigma. People say that they fall in love and then sometimes things change, and they don’t love each other any more. Both my partner and I can say that our love is enduring because when all is said and done, love is what we have beyond anything else. We could lose our home to disaster; we could lose our jobs; other bad things could happen. Though we have taken measures to protect our lives, lifestyles, and financial security, we know that our love for one another is the foundation of our relationship, and is really all that matters.

Speaking of love — I also like my partner. He’s a cool dude. Fun guy. Witty. Smart. Playful. Generous. Romantic. He also can be a pain in the ass sometimes, as I can be hell sometimes too. There are a few times when our level of “like” for the other is challenged. But never our level of “love.” It’s always there.

We like to do different things in different ways. I am the Booted Biker of our duo, and he was happy being my passenger on the Harley (when his disability didn’t prevent it). He likes to sit and watch the animals in our forest while I like to get out and ride my Harley. I’m running around fixing things for seniors, and he’s buying the parts I need to keep my “Mary Poppins/MacGyver Bag” stocked. He is the master gardener and I’m the muddy-booted hole-digger. He’s the coupon clipper and I’m the guy who writes the grocery list in the order in which you’ll find the items in the store. He’s the football fan and I’m the skydiver. He’s the movie-buff and I’m just in love with his buff bod. Whatever… you get the point. We are equal yet different. Just the way WE like it.

Throughout all of this, I haven’t mentioned sex yet. Yes, sex is important and we enjoy a pleasurable sex life. But there’s much more to our relationship than sex. I have to say, though, that we wouldn’t have much of a relationship without sex, so yeah: sex is important. Being equals, we know what pleases the other and we take care of each other in the way that is most enjoyable for the other.

Intimacy is important to. The intimacy we share through our trust, honesty, as well as sex, makes our bond strong. If the hours in the day were long enough, I’d be happy just to lay in bed next to my partner and snuggle the whole day through, listen to him, talk about life, and just, … ahhh… relax in the comfort and security of the arms of my man (and vice-versa).

We are here to affirm that it is quite possible that two gay men can be equals, and be different. We earn each other’s trust, we respect each other’s differences; we listen to one another; but most of all, we both remain deeply in love with the man of our lives… forever… endearingly and enduringly. He is not my “other half,” he is my “best half.”

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Booted for Work

Today I will be getting down to business in renovating that house I bought a couple weeks ago. It seems that the more I get into it, the more I find that requires repairs. Windows were replaced by a crew on Thursday, and they did a nice job… except the moldings around the frame on the inside of all of the windows crumbled or broke.

My mitre saw and I will be busy today crafting custom-made frames and moldings for 14 windows. I am using oak, rather than pine. Oak is a hardwood, and will be more sturdy. I will custom-cut each piece to replace each frame and molding, and my nailgun will make short order of attaching the pieces to form the frame and moldings around the frame. My partner, the painter of our duo, will paint the newly-installed wood after I install them.

I figure this process will take all day. While I am there with the saw, I will do some more carpentry work, too. Darn it, though, I don’t have power in the house (yet), as I have to do some rewiring in advance of having the furnace replaced with one that will accommodate central air conditioning. That doesn’t happen until next week. Meanwhile, I will use my generator to supply the power required to run the saw.

How am I booted? I got myself a pair of 8″ Timberland Pro Work Boots that I snatched up from Boot Barn by finding a huge discount certificate on-line. The boots are very comfortable, so I understand why all the boot guys rave about them.

So today as you enjoy whatever you’re doing, think of me, in blue jeans and work boots, doing carpentry and home renovations. Wanna help?

Life is short: get booted right for the job!

Shopping for Leather Jeans or Chaps

I received a comment on a blog post the other day from the guy who owns Eastern Oregon Leather and who made those really cool wrist cuffs for me and my partner.

He said: “the pair of [leather] jeans I got is turning out to be really cheap. They are off the shelf from the net and the seat is already stretching out. They fit fine the first time I wore them but now it looks like I have a load of crap in my seat .. Lol! Live and learn. I am now looking for a custom shop to get a good pair.”

I also received an email from a guy in Germany who said: “Your leather gear looks great on you. You said that some of your gear is more than 20 years old, yet it looks new. It isn’t like the gear I ordered by the internet. Where did you get it?”

I learned the hard way about buying leather gear and perhaps I can share some information with guys who are interested in getting a pair of leather jeans, chaps, or even a leather shirt so the gear will fit them well and remain good-looking as it is worn for years to come.

Here is what I have learned:

  • Leather gear designed for the masses, such as sold on some straight biker-oriented websites (leatherup.com and Jamin’ Leather are prime examples), looks good on guys who model it for photos on their website, and appears good the first time you open the box. But as Shane said, when you wear it a few times, it begins to stretch, sag, and get baggy in the wrong places. If you want to continue to wear it, you will have to have it professionally altered, often at a cost that is more than what you paid for it originally (unless you have the skills and equipment to do alterations yourself.)
  • There is a reason why leather gear that has prices significantly lower than gear sold by leather-oriented retailers is cheap: the quality of the hides is usually poor. It is probably made of splits, not top grain leather, but is polished, buffed, and the leather is stamped to appear as if it is top grain. But it doesn’t behave as top-grain leather when you wear it. It usually squeaks, stretches, and can tear easily. It may discolor when exposed to water, rain, or heat from a motorcycle engine. The chemicals used to make it shiny wear off quickly, and then it looks dull, or develops discoloured patches ranging from gray to black. Sometimes it can look like it has “leather pox.” (Not a real disease, but you get the point.)
  • Construction of a leather garment is important! Cheap gear shows short-cuts in manufacture — anything from single-stitched seams to x-pattern stitches where rivets would work better (corners, pockets — like on Levis) or a shortage of pockets to (my pet peeve) cheap snaps in the fly so when you swing your leg over the saddle of a motorcycle, your fly pops open.
  • Sizes S-M-L-XL are attempts to fit everyone, and usually don’t (fit everyone).

  • “Cut-to-length” jeans or chaps are a sign of cheaply made-for-the-masses gear. Leather jeans or chaps should be hemmed, not cut, to the right length. Hemming requires the use of a sewing machine and needle strong enough to work on leather. If you simply cut off the bottom of a pair of jeans to fit the length of your legs, then the ends of the legs will fray and the seams will come loose.
  • Be very careful about using eBay, Craigslist, or other on-line auction sites. Remember: used gear fits someone else. No two people are exactly the same. The previous owner may have caused the leather to stretch in the seat or knees. If you wear size 34 denim jeans and see a size 34 pair of leather jeans, it is NOT likely the fit will be the same. You may end up with something that doesn’t fit you, and that you cannot return. Don’t use on-line auction sites to buy leather unless you really know what you’re doing and have experience with choosing gear that will fit you.

Good quality leather gear will outlive the person wearing it if you care for it by conditioning it from time to time and hanging it up when you are not wearing it. Leather is a long-term investment. As such, here are my tips for shopping for leather gear:

  • Make a decision on how often you will wear the garment. If you will wear it more than once-a-year to a leather fashion show or gathering of The Great Leather Clan, then get quality, custom-made gear. It will fit you better, look better, and be made better. If, however, you are unwilling to wear leather pants, chaps, or a shirt more than once or twice a year, then you probably can get by with the cheap stuff, as a long-term investment isn’t worth it.

  • Don’t be intimidated or afraid of shopping at a leather-oriented retailer like 665 Leather, Mr. S., Northbound, or equivalent. While these retailers may have images on their website that may be frightening or cause eyebrows to raise among the straight guys, these businesses are in business for a reason: they craft quality leather garments and they know what they’re doing. They have measured and made leather gear for all sorts of people — big, small, tall, short, black, white, Asian, male, female, transgendered, and people with physical disabilities. They don’t care what you look like; they’re not looking for the next sexy model for their website. They want you to be happy with quality gear that you will wear. (Which brings me back to point 1: get over your own hang-ups about wearing leather.)

  • Use the retailers website to gather information and to determine what turns your crank, but especially for the first few forays into purchase of leather gear: visit the store in person or call them on the phone. Don’t order based on an image and fill-in-boxes on a website alone! When you visit or call a leather retailer, they can discuss with you many options that may not appear on their website. Options may include:
    • different colour of leather other than black.
    • a zip fly instead of snaps.
    • a zipper all the way around from front to back.
    • measurements they need so they can create gear thats fits all parts of your body: ankles, calf, lower leg, upper leg, thigh, hips, butt, waist, abdomen, tummy, chest, arms, neck.
    • hidden zipper front closure of a leather shirt (very functional!)
    • number, size, and placement of pockets.
    • piping (colored strips that define pockets and seams).
    • striping down the outside of each leg.
    • color combinations, such as for pocket flaps, epaulettes, or yoke.
    • Closure for chaps, such as a belt or snaps.
    • Bottom leg closure, such as zippers to make a tapered end so the leather will fit into tall boots smoothly.
    • Lots of other stuff, too. The point is, unless you actually speak with someone who is making leather gear for you, then you may miss out on getting options for leather gear that makes it “uniquely YOU!”

Custom gear made to your specific measurements may cost two to four times as much as off-the-‘net stuff will cost, BUT buying one item that you will wear for years is a better investment than two or three items that may quickly stretch, bulge, discolor, or rip and that you will not be able or interested in wearing for more than a few times, or that you would need to have repaired or altered by a professional.

When I consider buying leather jeans, chaps or shirts, I consider these retailers:

665 Leather of North Hollywood, California.
Mr. S Leather of San Francisco, California.
Northbound Leather of Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

I have purchased many leather items from these retailers, and have been very pleased with the quality of the garments and their construction. The choices of leather they use is superb. Craftsmanship is excellent. Customer service is also very good.

In summary, when it comes to buying new leather jeans, chaps, shirts, jackets, vests, or the like, you get what you pay for. Buy cheap, get cheap. Make an investment in the good stuff, and it will last a lifetime. You will enjoy wearing it, and perhaps become like me: wear it often, with pride.

For more information, read my Complete Guide to Leather Gear. I hope it helps you make wise decisions for long-term investments in quality and gear you will enjoy for a long time.

Life is short: wear your leather!

Suits Aren’t For Me

Last Friday, a guy half my age who started working in my office about a month ago wore a suit to work. I kidded around with him in a good-natured way by saying, “you must be having an important meeting!”

He smiled and said, “no, not really. I just like to dress up.”

…there I was on blue-jean Friday in Chippewa Firefighter boots and blue jeans mumbling to myself.

After I returned to my office, I began to think aloud: “oh yuck!” and “is he serious?” I shuddered several times. My visceral, negative reaction woke me up. I thought, “my goodness, why do you feel so strongly negative about dressing up and wearing a suit and tie?”

Honestly, I just absolutely can’t stand it. I looked back on my childhood and tried to remember just when it was that I developed such an aversion to dressing up. I cannot remember for the life of me. I have always disliked dressing up.

Intrigued, I called my twin brother and asked about this. My twin, unlike me, has been Mr.-suit-and-tie his whole life. He truly seems to enjoy dressing up and wearing suits. He told me, “heck, you never ever EVER have liked to dress up. I remember that Mom put you in a suit for (our sister’s) wedding when we were 6 years old, and you promptly went out and jumped into a mud puddle!”

Perhaps the revulsion of the outfit is not so much the outfit but what it is supposed to represent. We have been fairly well indoctrinated to believe what is viewed as the uniform of success. People who make the rules wear suits. People who are “wannabes” wear suits, too (like the new guy in my office.) Whereas people who carry out the rules wear uniforms, polo shirts, and khakis.

For many, wearing a suit to work conveys a perception of success and being seen as “professional” — not just to themselves but to others as well. My friend Kevin and I will create our own definition of dressing professionally. It doesn’t have to include wearing a suit every day, especially if the office dress code is “business casual.” I am regarded highly in my profession and have an international reputation which was earned by my contributions to my field, not by wearing a costume.

This is an ongoing “problem” for me, if you call it that. As much as I enjoy wearing leather and boots, I feel equally the opposite about wearing suits and shoes, but there are those times when I just can not avoid wearing dress clothes and a noose (oops, I mean “tie.”)

We all wear costumes to work and the most attractive are those who wear the clothes and don’t let the clothes wear them. I have blogged about something similar as it relates to those who wear leather as a costume versus those who do so because of function or that it simply suits them. The latter do not have the slightest interest in the “leatherman rules” or roles because the clothing doesn’t define them. Leather is just clothing — nothing more, nothing less. At least, that is how I perceive it (and my friend Kevin, too, who gave me these words.)

I dress up if I must, such as for a funeral or a wedding or a required meeting with big-wigs in agencies with whom I work. After all, I am in a management position and such attire is more the norm for people at my level. But I consider dressing up to be a chore. I get a chill up my spine every time I see that commercial on TV for whatever-suit-sales company it is where its CEO says at the end, “you’re going to like the way you look.” Yeah, right… not me.

Believe me, I have tried a number of ways to work this out. My partner had me fitted by a good tailor in a nice-looking suit as a gift for one of our first Christmases. He said I looked great. I felt miserable. I have had tailors fit me for a tux for the very rare times I have had to be part of a wedding party or attend a formal embassy dinner. I had these continuous chills running up and down my spine until I could get that damn monkey suit off my back.

Anyway, it was an interesting internal self-exam. It affirms what I already know: suits aren’t for me. And if I ever had to wear shoes, the defibrillator would have to be nearby, ’cause someone would have to use it on me.

Life is short: enjoy it in leather and boots!

I appreciate my friend Kevin’s thoughtful advice and experience which contributed to improving this blog post before it was published.

Posted in Job

How I Learned to Write

Lately I have had several people compliment my writing style, and I am thankful for the kind words. Someone asked me, “how did you learn to write like that?”

Let me begin with a little history, to which I’m sure many can relate. In 7th through 9th grade, I disliked English composition classes. I struggled and struggled with writing the required compositions. My mother would patiently help me think about what I was trying to say, but it was difficult. I had trouble with noun-verb agreement, using adjectives, and understanding constructions like “there, their, and they’re” and “who and whom” and “its and it’s.”

I have to admit, I also detested writing because, at the time, we had to write on paper with a pen. I did not have a typewriter at home. Typewritten compositions weren’t accepted in junior high — the teachers thought that if you turned in a typewritten paper, your Mom wrote it for you. Home PCs were not available (though Eniac and Edvac were invented at the time, they were more for marveling at science, not for the masses. Man, I’m old!) I detested writing in cursive. My resistance to the physical act of applying pen to paper contributed to my overall dislike of writing, as well.

In 9th grade, we were required to take a foreign language (back in the day when studying a language other than English was a graduation requirement). I did not want to take Spanish or French because I already spoke Italian fluently since childhood, and thought I would have trouble with those languages because I would get them confused. The only other option was Latin. Latin? Why that? Well, it’s different, and it was taught by a very well-regarded teacher. I enrolled. Sic volvere parcas et alea jacta est.

Thus (or should I say, ergo?), I learned to write well for four reasons:

1) Latin taught me how to structure my English. I finally learned about subject-verb agreement. Latin taught me all the parts of speech and how they worked together. I finally learned all of the tenses of verbs, and when to use them. I learned not to infinitives split (after Latin taught me what an infinitive was!) I continued to take Latin throughout high school and continued studying it through four semesters in college. I learned that the language is not dead, as it lives in many modern languages, including English.

2) I had inspiring teachers. In addition to my Latin teachers who were great, I also had an English teacher in 10th and 12th grades (same person) who was absolutely incredible. She taught with great energy and passion. She asked us to write about what was in our hearts and on our minds. Not just for function, but to express oneself. I learned to take risks in writing that made me write better, stronger, and more clearly.

3) I received a typewriter for a birthday present in the summer before 10th grade, and my Mom “suggested” (forced?) me to take a typing class. It turned out that doing so was the best thing that I could ever have done. While my mother could not foresee how important learning how to type would be due to the widespread use of computers at home and in the workplace nowadays, she knew that if I learned how to type, that I wouldn’t find writing to be such a chore (and she wouldn’t have to type my papers!) In high school, teachers would accept typed compositions. They didn’t care how they got them — just that they got them. So I typed away! I even won the school speed typing contest that year (first male student ever to do that!)

4) My very patient mother had a special way of helping me with my English compositions. She did not to review and edit, but rather, she had me read what I wrote aloud to her. Then she would ask questions such as, “what do you mean by that?” or “how could you say that differently?” or “what is the main point and where’s the summary?” She could always spot where I had gone astray, but through her questioning technique, I learned to spot the errors myself. By reading aloud, I could hear what was not right and self-correct. My Mom had a gift for bringing out the best in all of us, and I do not think she even knew it, or how thankful we all are.

There are two writing skills with which I continue to have trouble. The first is writing succinctly. Ha! Look at how long some of these blog posts are! The second is placing an adjective before the noun it describes, instead of after it (as is done in Italian). I enjoy the boots black (and brown, and other colours).

By learning that writing can be fun and a joyful way of expressing oneself, and also by learning how to type, I have found that blogging is a way to continue honing my writing skills.

Life is short: write what you think! (So sez Mrs. D from 10th and 12th grades)