Standard Dimensions
Forum rules
Post a new topic to begin a chat.
Any topic is acceptable, and topic drift is permissible.
Post a new topic to begin a chat.
Any topic is acceptable, and topic drift is permissible.
Standard Dimensions
Have you ever wondered what the dimensions of a Dromedary Camel happen to be? How about an Apple Mac Pro? Or maybe a toilet? Well, somebody documented all this and now you can find out about these things, and more, right here: https://www.dimensions.guide/
Re: Standard Dimensions
Well, I'm sure this website would be more useful than that idiot a few years ago who posted the displacement for thousands of things, including animals, and super large objects, which I'm sure was done by calculation, hi hi.
Commentary about the displacement of animals was flawed, because of the water the fur held.
So they came back and said, oh contrare, we wet the animals by soaking first to prevent a false reading.
And/or we measured an increase in volume and calculated the displacement, which is just as accurate.
The commentary was the fun thing to read on that website. Now that I think about it, that was over 10 years ago now.
Commentary about the displacement of animals was flawed, because of the water the fur held.
So they came back and said, oh contrare, we wet the animals by soaking first to prevent a false reading.
And/or we measured an increase in volume and calculated the displacement, which is just as accurate.
The commentary was the fun thing to read on that website. Now that I think about it, that was over 10 years ago now.
Re: Standard Dimensions
The website quoting esoteric dimensions might, with a huge stretch of one's imagination, be useful in certain circumstances. Displacement, however, would only apply to whether you would sink or swim in a pool of quicksand. LOL
Re: Standard Dimensions
When I was building my kitchen, I used the specs provided by the cabinet company on the width of each cabinet component.
I did not have a way to physically measure them until I got them in, which is after the fact of the alcoves being built in the kitchen. When assembled, even taking into account a possible 1/32 inch gap between each cabinet as a smudge factor, the row of cabinets came out 1/2 inch longer than expected. Not a real big deal, I could hide the mismatch which I installed the back-splash tiles. But it did mean I had to trim the refrigerator raised floor plate for the base cabinet to fit in. The upper cabinets didn't matter, because they went all the way to the left wall using a spacer piece anyhow.
But to me, the 1/2 inch too long left the edge of the alcove to the right of the fridge not in alignment with the cabinets.
I still have not gotten around to installing the back-splash tiles, to hide this, hi hi.
The installers sure were happy campers though. I placed horizontal 2x4s cut into the vertical studs, where they would mount the cabinets to. This meant they didn't have to hunt for studs and work around cabinet corners where no studs were located. All the mounting screws could be placed in the same two locations inside the top of each cabinet. Made their job faster and easier.
I can't say much for the cabinet company though. They messed up royally on several pieces. They had a lazy suzan mounted to the ceiling of the corner cabinet. The corner cabinet had a garage as part of the cabinet. So any idiot should have known the lazy susan does not go upside down on the ceiling.
Another cabinet, the microwave shelf with cabinet above, had the doors on backwards and upside down.
And one of the base cabinets was so far out of square you could see daylight through the corners.
And don't get me going on the major appliances, of which none of them worked properly, all had factory damage not visible on the outside, and we only got a couple of them fixed under warranty, and that was with great difficulty.
I did not have a way to physically measure them until I got them in, which is after the fact of the alcoves being built in the kitchen. When assembled, even taking into account a possible 1/32 inch gap between each cabinet as a smudge factor, the row of cabinets came out 1/2 inch longer than expected. Not a real big deal, I could hide the mismatch which I installed the back-splash tiles. But it did mean I had to trim the refrigerator raised floor plate for the base cabinet to fit in. The upper cabinets didn't matter, because they went all the way to the left wall using a spacer piece anyhow.
But to me, the 1/2 inch too long left the edge of the alcove to the right of the fridge not in alignment with the cabinets.
I still have not gotten around to installing the back-splash tiles, to hide this, hi hi.
The installers sure were happy campers though. I placed horizontal 2x4s cut into the vertical studs, where they would mount the cabinets to. This meant they didn't have to hunt for studs and work around cabinet corners where no studs were located. All the mounting screws could be placed in the same two locations inside the top of each cabinet. Made their job faster and easier.
I can't say much for the cabinet company though. They messed up royally on several pieces. They had a lazy suzan mounted to the ceiling of the corner cabinet. The corner cabinet had a garage as part of the cabinet. So any idiot should have known the lazy susan does not go upside down on the ceiling.
Another cabinet, the microwave shelf with cabinet above, had the doors on backwards and upside down.
And one of the base cabinets was so far out of square you could see daylight through the corners.
And don't get me going on the major appliances, of which none of them worked properly, all had factory damage not visible on the outside, and we only got a couple of them fixed under warranty, and that was with great difficulty.
Re: Standard Dimensions
I always had this thought that I'd like to get into cabinetmaking. The idea of making perfect custom wood furniture not only appeals to my aesthetic taste but also to the challenge of creating something true and perfect. Aside for the years of practice it would take to acquire the skills, it would take a small fortune to buy the specialized tools, such as planers and joiners, so I never did it. Oddly enough, many years ago we had a neighbor, also named Dennis, who did cabinet making as a hobby. He made a wall display unit for the shot glass collection my mom amassed, and his workmanship was breathtaking. He did most of it by hand because he too couldn't afford to buy the expensive equipment. But this kid was a true genius with a chisel and hand plane.
Not all cabinetmakers are perfectionists, as you point out. We had a very similar experience when we built our home some 35 years ago. They just finished framing it up and were still working on the plumbing and electric when the people we chose to make our cabinets came out to the house to make some final measurements. That was fine, plus we gave them a set of prints as well. By the time the wallboard was all installed and the painting was nearly done, the kitchen cabinets arrived. Perfect timing. The builder started to install the next day and discovered that the cabinets did not fit. They were too big. It seems that the cabinetmaker neglected to take into account the thickness of the wallboard when he jotted down his notes. The blueprints apparently didn't take that into consideration either, but how damned dumb do you have to be to not realize there was going to be drywall on top of the studs? We were on a tight schedule and could not wait for them to replace the custom made cabinets. The builder did the best he could but there was some cabinetry extending out into spaces that were not intended,, such as overlapping the kitchen window frame. It didn't look right to me but it really bothered my wife. It took 25 years to remodel the kitchen and get new cabinets. Then we moved.
There's something about cabinetmakers. They are either perfectionists or morons. Nothing in between.
Not all cabinetmakers are perfectionists, as you point out. We had a very similar experience when we built our home some 35 years ago. They just finished framing it up and were still working on the plumbing and electric when the people we chose to make our cabinets came out to the house to make some final measurements. That was fine, plus we gave them a set of prints as well. By the time the wallboard was all installed and the painting was nearly done, the kitchen cabinets arrived. Perfect timing. The builder started to install the next day and discovered that the cabinets did not fit. They were too big. It seems that the cabinetmaker neglected to take into account the thickness of the wallboard when he jotted down his notes. The blueprints apparently didn't take that into consideration either, but how damned dumb do you have to be to not realize there was going to be drywall on top of the studs? We were on a tight schedule and could not wait for them to replace the custom made cabinets. The builder did the best he could but there was some cabinetry extending out into spaces that were not intended,, such as overlapping the kitchen window frame. It didn't look right to me but it really bothered my wife. It took 25 years to remodel the kitchen and get new cabinets. Then we moved.
There's something about cabinetmakers. They are either perfectionists or morons. Nothing in between.
Re: Standard Dimensions
This will make you sick. I had an entire woodworking shop (also had a metal lathe too but that's beside the point here).
I had 2 jointers, 2 planers, scroll saw, 2 band saws, 3 table saws, 2 boring machines, one vertical, one horizontal, 2 different types of drill presses, 3 different types of belt sanders, a high speed 7200 rpm bench grinder, handsaw sharpener, etc. Enough to make your eyes water. Oh, plus the Mark V machine, and it's associated attachments, and an entire Belsaw shop right down to the circular saw cleaning and polishing machine.
I don't need to tell you the cost for all of this equipment, and sadly, it all went at auction for about 350 bucks for all of it combined. I still kick myself for not keeping the vertical 1" belt grinder, as I used it for a lot of things.
I didn't get all of this at one time, but most of it was bought new as I needed it for my various businesses. And it was paid for from doing work to earn the money that warranted the particular machine. You might say I was doing the work the slow hard way, before I could afford the fast more efficient machinery.
I also had a hot foil stamping business, with several trays of cold type. Heck, the wooden California cases empty cost 135 bucks each. All of this went at auction to, fetching only 35 bucks for everything associated with my hot foil business. About 10,000 dollars worth of equipment and inventory.
All because of medical bills I had to pay for my late wife!
Not all of the equipment went at auction, some of it went to my best employees after they started their own business using my equipment on lease purchase. Now on those deals I came out ahead. They did too, because they made more than I was paying them, even after paying me for the equipment. Nice deal for them, and gave me a five year income stream. Of course that was all long gone by the time the frau got sick.
One thing I did learn about woodworking. How someone else does it, is not always the way that works best for you. It's good to take tips from the pro's, but even better if you experiment with different ways of doing something.
Unfortunately, we are both to darn old to go back to getting our hands dirty. I couldn't in my condition, even if I wanted to.
I had 2 jointers, 2 planers, scroll saw, 2 band saws, 3 table saws, 2 boring machines, one vertical, one horizontal, 2 different types of drill presses, 3 different types of belt sanders, a high speed 7200 rpm bench grinder, handsaw sharpener, etc. Enough to make your eyes water. Oh, plus the Mark V machine, and it's associated attachments, and an entire Belsaw shop right down to the circular saw cleaning and polishing machine.
I don't need to tell you the cost for all of this equipment, and sadly, it all went at auction for about 350 bucks for all of it combined. I still kick myself for not keeping the vertical 1" belt grinder, as I used it for a lot of things.
I didn't get all of this at one time, but most of it was bought new as I needed it for my various businesses. And it was paid for from doing work to earn the money that warranted the particular machine. You might say I was doing the work the slow hard way, before I could afford the fast more efficient machinery.
I also had a hot foil stamping business, with several trays of cold type. Heck, the wooden California cases empty cost 135 bucks each. All of this went at auction to, fetching only 35 bucks for everything associated with my hot foil business. About 10,000 dollars worth of equipment and inventory.
All because of medical bills I had to pay for my late wife!
Not all of the equipment went at auction, some of it went to my best employees after they started their own business using my equipment on lease purchase. Now on those deals I came out ahead. They did too, because they made more than I was paying them, even after paying me for the equipment. Nice deal for them, and gave me a five year income stream. Of course that was all long gone by the time the frau got sick.
One thing I did learn about woodworking. How someone else does it, is not always the way that works best for you. It's good to take tips from the pro's, but even better if you experiment with different ways of doing something.
Unfortunately, we are both to darn old to go back to getting our hands dirty. I couldn't in my condition, even if I wanted to.
Re: Standard Dimensions
It gives one a sinking feeling in the chest to know all that equipment could have only fetched $350. I guess desperate people do desperate things out of necessity. The good news is that you are still around to tell this depressing story.
I don't fancy myself to be very creative, but I do experiment a lot. These days it's mostly with software, but I can see myself as a carpenter doing the same thing. It's not just skill and good equipment. As you point out the creative touch adds personality to the finished product. We almost bought a house in Lake St Louis from a guy who had a shop similar to the one you describe. Not so elaborate, of course. It was a 35 year old house with woodworking you haven't seen since the Great Depression (the first one), and he offered to assist me finishing off the house. It was very tempting, but I just left a house that needed a lot of finishing. I was looking for a place to retire, not one that needed fixing. I still think about it though.
I don't fancy myself to be very creative, but I do experiment a lot. These days it's mostly with software, but I can see myself as a carpenter doing the same thing. It's not just skill and good equipment. As you point out the creative touch adds personality to the finished product. We almost bought a house in Lake St Louis from a guy who had a shop similar to the one you describe. Not so elaborate, of course. It was a 35 year old house with woodworking you haven't seen since the Great Depression (the first one), and he offered to assist me finishing off the house. It was very tempting, but I just left a house that needed a lot of finishing. I was looking for a place to retire, not one that needed fixing. I still think about it though.
Re: Standard Dimensions
At my normal full-time jobs, I rarely made much money. I did advance from about 150 dollars a week to a little over 350 dollars a week before taxes. So to around things off, lets say for several years I earned about 1000 dollars a month. From that I had to pay a house payment, insurance on house and two cars, taxes on all, plus your normal expenses like utilities, groceries, clothing, and gas for the vehicles, and repairs and tires, etc. You know what I mean. Most of your paycheck goes out for essentials.
This is why I started so many little side jobs I could do at home after work and before bedtime.
Naturally it cost to start up a new business, and a long drought before it became profitable.
After all, you have all the expenses there too, and payments on equipment.
I did get most of them to become profitable, and a few to become highly profitable.
But there is only so much one person can do.
So after I got all the kinks ironed out, and the methods of operation running smoothly, I could then hire someone to come in and do the physical work, while I handled getting more accounts, and of course all the bookwork, generating invoices, collecting and depositing the checks, and paying all the bills, and Uncle Sam.
It was not uncommon for a business to grow enough I needed more than one employee. At that time, you could have up to four employee before you had to start worrying about the government, now it is only two employees.
So, after I had about four different businesses running that required employees, rather than hire a fifth employee, I would instead hire independent contractors to handle a specific part of the business, they were their own bosses running their own businesses. An example: For my Saw and Sabre Shop I outsourced the pick-up and delivery of the tools we handled to a former employee I helped get set up as Roberts Courier Service. Now to make this legal, he also had to have more than one client. No Problem: I hired his services through another one of my companies, Colonial Ribbon Guilding Company, plus got him three other outside clients not affiliated with me at all.
I tire quickly of any job, so I would pick my best employee and sell him the company on a five year contract.
He got all the machinery, and the clients, and the third party independents. In other words a turn-key operation of which I also set up the accounting program for him also. Back then we used accounting style checkbooks and a single ledger.
My name was still on all the contracts for the machines of course, so I still had to make those payments.
But this was included in the sale price of the company, divided over five years of payments. After that period of time, they owned the company lock, stock, and barrel. For that five year period, they only kept about 20% of the existing profits, but as they added new clients themselves, their profits climbed dramatically. The payment to me was a fixed amount for the five year duration, and I was the lienholder on all the equipment until they made the final payment.
Needless to say, there were a few times they didn't have enough money to pay the full amount owed, but most of the time the money was going to restock inventory, so I let it slide and everyone always made up their shortfall in only a month or two, then no problems for the rest of the duration.
But I got off on a tangent of what I needed to say here.
If it were not for all these side businesses, and the fact I quit my day jobs to work full-time at a couple of my own businesses, I could have never afforded to keep my late wife in the hospital.
I kid you now, even after insurance paid their share, for almost three years, my monthly payments to the hospital were over 25,000 dollars.
In her last year on this earth, I had refinanced my house twice and now owed more on it than it was worth, and trying to take care of her, and work when I could, I was going into the hole faster and faster.
After she passed away, I swiped some money from an SBA loan earmarked for a home renovation. The home was done and on the market, but the deal not closed yet. I bided my time on that one, but the house sold and I paid the SBA loan off and made another payment to the hospital. I did not have enough money left to make another payment.
She was in the hospital when she passed away, so even though I had no money left, I still owed them.
I rushed to get back to work full-time and did manage to pay off the hospital, but with those humongous house payments I was barely getting by. I started selling off several of my collectors items, until I was finally back to ekeing by. A little more income than outgo, as far as the regular bills go.
After another six months, and selling six more houses, things were just starting to get comfortable again. Although I was back to making a goodly amount of money, it just flew across my desk with little landing in my pocket, hi hi.
I had two houses near completion, one owner pending approval, but had great credit. Then 9//11 hit, and all the banks stopped making B-Paper mortgages. So, for a whole year, my completed houses sat unsold, got broken into, things stolen, and other damage by vandals.
Just before I would have had to file for bankruptcy, (which in retrospect I probably should have done.) I put every house I owned on the market basically for free, the bottom line on the sale had to come out to ZERO for me. I did this to move them all rapidly, but they were all rentals and my source of income too. So all income would cease.
I called an auction company to sell off everything in my house, except for personal items like photographs and clothes, and a few keepsakes, which I moved out to my mom's house before the auction.
Over 70,000 dollars worth of merchandise, machinery, inventory, and office equipment, plus the few collectables I had not already sold went for pennies on the dollar. After the smoke cleared, I had made enough money at the auction to pay off every single bill I owed, plus had 3 grand left over.
I used that 3 grand to buy a trailer to move the things I did keep down south.
Before I made the move of things from my mom's house, I did get an order from one of my tabletop businesses, which gave me another 2 grand. I used that 2 grand to buy a derelict house a block away from my frau's parents home to renovate. Yeah, I know, with no cash, hi hi. But the initial cleanup only took time, not money. My frau went to work and I used a little to buy plumbing to get that in, and later a little to install the electric. Had it inspected to make sure it passed code. Next was the drywall.
It was at this point in time when the frau's healthy father suddenly passed away, leaving his sickly wife with no one to care for her. So now I became her caregiver. Still did a little work on the house, but ended up selling it to a family for about four times what I had into it already, including my labor at roughly 12 bucks an hour.
This gave me enough money to buy the frau's sisters share of the family homestead and put it in the frau's name.
Many steps to that process, but I was well acquainted with how to handle it legally through attorneys. Save the family nearly 20k by doing it the way I had it done. And kept the two lots separated for property tax reasons.
So, here I am, still at the bottom of the barrel and getting lower now that my health has declined.
This is why I started so many little side jobs I could do at home after work and before bedtime.
Naturally it cost to start up a new business, and a long drought before it became profitable.
After all, you have all the expenses there too, and payments on equipment.
I did get most of them to become profitable, and a few to become highly profitable.
But there is only so much one person can do.
So after I got all the kinks ironed out, and the methods of operation running smoothly, I could then hire someone to come in and do the physical work, while I handled getting more accounts, and of course all the bookwork, generating invoices, collecting and depositing the checks, and paying all the bills, and Uncle Sam.
It was not uncommon for a business to grow enough I needed more than one employee. At that time, you could have up to four employee before you had to start worrying about the government, now it is only two employees.
So, after I had about four different businesses running that required employees, rather than hire a fifth employee, I would instead hire independent contractors to handle a specific part of the business, they were their own bosses running their own businesses. An example: For my Saw and Sabre Shop I outsourced the pick-up and delivery of the tools we handled to a former employee I helped get set up as Roberts Courier Service. Now to make this legal, he also had to have more than one client. No Problem: I hired his services through another one of my companies, Colonial Ribbon Guilding Company, plus got him three other outside clients not affiliated with me at all.
I tire quickly of any job, so I would pick my best employee and sell him the company on a five year contract.
He got all the machinery, and the clients, and the third party independents. In other words a turn-key operation of which I also set up the accounting program for him also. Back then we used accounting style checkbooks and a single ledger.
My name was still on all the contracts for the machines of course, so I still had to make those payments.
But this was included in the sale price of the company, divided over five years of payments. After that period of time, they owned the company lock, stock, and barrel. For that five year period, they only kept about 20% of the existing profits, but as they added new clients themselves, their profits climbed dramatically. The payment to me was a fixed amount for the five year duration, and I was the lienholder on all the equipment until they made the final payment.
Needless to say, there were a few times they didn't have enough money to pay the full amount owed, but most of the time the money was going to restock inventory, so I let it slide and everyone always made up their shortfall in only a month or two, then no problems for the rest of the duration.
But I got off on a tangent of what I needed to say here.
If it were not for all these side businesses, and the fact I quit my day jobs to work full-time at a couple of my own businesses, I could have never afforded to keep my late wife in the hospital.
I kid you now, even after insurance paid their share, for almost three years, my monthly payments to the hospital were over 25,000 dollars.
In her last year on this earth, I had refinanced my house twice and now owed more on it than it was worth, and trying to take care of her, and work when I could, I was going into the hole faster and faster.
After she passed away, I swiped some money from an SBA loan earmarked for a home renovation. The home was done and on the market, but the deal not closed yet. I bided my time on that one, but the house sold and I paid the SBA loan off and made another payment to the hospital. I did not have enough money left to make another payment.
She was in the hospital when she passed away, so even though I had no money left, I still owed them.
I rushed to get back to work full-time and did manage to pay off the hospital, but with those humongous house payments I was barely getting by. I started selling off several of my collectors items, until I was finally back to ekeing by. A little more income than outgo, as far as the regular bills go.
After another six months, and selling six more houses, things were just starting to get comfortable again. Although I was back to making a goodly amount of money, it just flew across my desk with little landing in my pocket, hi hi.
I had two houses near completion, one owner pending approval, but had great credit. Then 9//11 hit, and all the banks stopped making B-Paper mortgages. So, for a whole year, my completed houses sat unsold, got broken into, things stolen, and other damage by vandals.
Just before I would have had to file for bankruptcy, (which in retrospect I probably should have done.) I put every house I owned on the market basically for free, the bottom line on the sale had to come out to ZERO for me. I did this to move them all rapidly, but they were all rentals and my source of income too. So all income would cease.
I called an auction company to sell off everything in my house, except for personal items like photographs and clothes, and a few keepsakes, which I moved out to my mom's house before the auction.
Over 70,000 dollars worth of merchandise, machinery, inventory, and office equipment, plus the few collectables I had not already sold went for pennies on the dollar. After the smoke cleared, I had made enough money at the auction to pay off every single bill I owed, plus had 3 grand left over.
I used that 3 grand to buy a trailer to move the things I did keep down south.
Before I made the move of things from my mom's house, I did get an order from one of my tabletop businesses, which gave me another 2 grand. I used that 2 grand to buy a derelict house a block away from my frau's parents home to renovate. Yeah, I know, with no cash, hi hi. But the initial cleanup only took time, not money. My frau went to work and I used a little to buy plumbing to get that in, and later a little to install the electric. Had it inspected to make sure it passed code. Next was the drywall.
It was at this point in time when the frau's healthy father suddenly passed away, leaving his sickly wife with no one to care for her. So now I became her caregiver. Still did a little work on the house, but ended up selling it to a family for about four times what I had into it already, including my labor at roughly 12 bucks an hour.
This gave me enough money to buy the frau's sisters share of the family homestead and put it in the frau's name.
Many steps to that process, but I was well acquainted with how to handle it legally through attorneys. Save the family nearly 20k by doing it the way I had it done. And kept the two lots separated for property tax reasons.
So, here I am, still at the bottom of the barrel and getting lower now that my health has declined.
Re: Standard Dimensions
I was already aware of some of your story, but the details you provide here must have been excruciating to write about. It's difficult for me to come back with a proper response. Part of that is because I can see myself going through a lot of the tests of strength and moral character that is evident in your situation. I know that I could not fare as well. My instinct is to empathize and offer encouragement, but it all seems so inadequate.
A long long time ago I read a book by Viktor Frankl, Man's Search For Meaning. I believe the author survived the Holocost and delved into neurology and psychiatry after it was all over. His question was how could those being persecuted find meaning and purpose to their lives when everything was brutally taken from them? To answer that question he invented logotherapy which worked on the clear fact that one thing could never be removed from an individual: that is one's dignity. I've long forgotten what all the book entailed, but that single point has pretty much driven my life ever since I read about it. If there is a person I could point to who clearly demonstrates the premise of logotherapy, it would be you. Your dignity shines brilliantly.
A long long time ago I read a book by Viktor Frankl, Man's Search For Meaning. I believe the author survived the Holocost and delved into neurology and psychiatry after it was all over. His question was how could those being persecuted find meaning and purpose to their lives when everything was brutally taken from them? To answer that question he invented logotherapy which worked on the clear fact that one thing could never be removed from an individual: that is one's dignity. I've long forgotten what all the book entailed, but that single point has pretty much driven my life ever since I read about it. If there is a person I could point to who clearly demonstrates the premise of logotherapy, it would be you. Your dignity shines brilliantly.
Re: Standard Dimensions
Sorry my dissertation got so long. I can type 120 wpm on a good roll, but tend to slow down a bit in my old age. But even at 100 wpm, you can fill a page up pretty darn fast.
I basically dropped everything in order to take care of my late wives. Barbara went really fast, but Ruth was in a wheelchair for several years, when she wasn't in the hospital.
With my experience in taking care of them, after I learned my current wife's parents were more aged than they looked the couple of times I met them, and I didn't learn her sister was blind until after we were married.
I met Debi on-line, visited her two times at her apartment in Maryville.
On my second trip down from St. Louis, before I came down, I asked to meet with her family at a restaurant.
Nothing was said to me about her mothers serious medical condition, and I couldn't tell her sister was legally blind. She could still see a little, but not much at that time.
I wanted to meet her parents because I knew after our first date, wedding bells were in our near future.
Debi came to St. Louis via Grayhound Bus for our third date, they dropped her off in Indiana, the bus was running late and the next bus from Indiana to St. Louis was not until the next day. I offered to come get her, but she said the bus would be there before I would, so she slept on the chairs overnight. Now you know what bus stations are like, not exactly the safest place to be, much less be asleep in. Lucky for her, two solders were in the same boat, also heading to St. Louis and they took turns at short naps, so one was always watching over her.
While in St. Louis on our third date, I proposed to her atop the Gateway Arch.
After that I was making bi-weekly trips to TN to move her to St. Louis, pulling a big trailer.
We had set a date for late July, but out of the clear blue, when most places are booked up three years in advance, I found June 1st to be open at the fanciest reception hall in Knoxville, and all the services we required, musicians, church, preacher, wedding gown designer, and the rest of the team, all just happened to be free on the impossible date of June 1st. Now what bride doesn't want to be married in June, so we pushed the date back.
I'm sure her family was worried stiff about her marrying someone from the mid-west and whisking her away.
We lived in St. Loo about 1-1/2 years before I learned her mother and sisters conditions.
I asked the frau, who will take care of you mom and dad. When she said nobody, I told her we have to move back as soon as we can. I started to sell off my properties I had not begun renovations on, as the first step. I didn't plan on getting rid of the rentals at all, and even worked with a management company to take them over for me when we moved.
But then 9/11 hit, and you know the rest about that from above.
We were not moved down here to Knoxville more than three months when her dad, the healthy one, became ill and died in the hospital. This left her mother who has suffered from bone cancer for several years with no one to take care of her. I volunteered so Debi could stay working at her new job. And after I sold the house I bought for us, I used that money to start renovating her moms house the hard way, plus buy out her sisters share of the estate.
And here I still am, both of us getting older and medical bills and drugs eating us alive.
And before I cover ten more pages, hi hi. I'll post.
I basically dropped everything in order to take care of my late wives. Barbara went really fast, but Ruth was in a wheelchair for several years, when she wasn't in the hospital.
With my experience in taking care of them, after I learned my current wife's parents were more aged than they looked the couple of times I met them, and I didn't learn her sister was blind until after we were married.
I met Debi on-line, visited her two times at her apartment in Maryville.
On my second trip down from St. Louis, before I came down, I asked to meet with her family at a restaurant.
Nothing was said to me about her mothers serious medical condition, and I couldn't tell her sister was legally blind. She could still see a little, but not much at that time.
I wanted to meet her parents because I knew after our first date, wedding bells were in our near future.
Debi came to St. Louis via Grayhound Bus for our third date, they dropped her off in Indiana, the bus was running late and the next bus from Indiana to St. Louis was not until the next day. I offered to come get her, but she said the bus would be there before I would, so she slept on the chairs overnight. Now you know what bus stations are like, not exactly the safest place to be, much less be asleep in. Lucky for her, two solders were in the same boat, also heading to St. Louis and they took turns at short naps, so one was always watching over her.
While in St. Louis on our third date, I proposed to her atop the Gateway Arch.
After that I was making bi-weekly trips to TN to move her to St. Louis, pulling a big trailer.
We had set a date for late July, but out of the clear blue, when most places are booked up three years in advance, I found June 1st to be open at the fanciest reception hall in Knoxville, and all the services we required, musicians, church, preacher, wedding gown designer, and the rest of the team, all just happened to be free on the impossible date of June 1st. Now what bride doesn't want to be married in June, so we pushed the date back.
I'm sure her family was worried stiff about her marrying someone from the mid-west and whisking her away.
We lived in St. Loo about 1-1/2 years before I learned her mother and sisters conditions.
I asked the frau, who will take care of you mom and dad. When she said nobody, I told her we have to move back as soon as we can. I started to sell off my properties I had not begun renovations on, as the first step. I didn't plan on getting rid of the rentals at all, and even worked with a management company to take them over for me when we moved.
But then 9/11 hit, and you know the rest about that from above.
We were not moved down here to Knoxville more than three months when her dad, the healthy one, became ill and died in the hospital. This left her mother who has suffered from bone cancer for several years with no one to take care of her. I volunteered so Debi could stay working at her new job. And after I sold the house I bought for us, I used that money to start renovating her moms house the hard way, plus buy out her sisters share of the estate.
And here I still am, both of us getting older and medical bills and drugs eating us alive.
And before I cover ten more pages, hi hi. I'll post.
Re: Standard Dimensions
i know what happens when your typing skills are at a peak. For about a decade I was an astrologer part time. The long and the short of it is that I got popular thanks to a couple friends who owned a bookstore and promoted me. I met clients in person to discuss their charts, but about half the time I dealt with people I never met. I typed out the chart analysis and drew a map for them. The reports were anywhere from ten to fifty pages in length depending on what information the client was looking for. At one time I was able to type as quickly as somebody would be able to dictate their thesis to me. A few college kids, a wife, and a good buddy of mine all got their advanced degrees because I was able to type a lot quicker than they could. I amazed myself with the speed, but I don't think people talk anywhere near 100 words per minute. But, all that ended when we built our last house. My typing skills dropped considerably, but I can type nearly as quickly as I can think of ideas to write about. What I do these days is type my thoughts and then go back to make them readable. LOL
I dated my wife for five years before it occurred to me to ask her to marry me. The only reason it occurred to me was because her father took me aside one day and asked me what my intentions where. I didn't have any intentions. I guess I assumed we would just be dating until we died. Even these days it takes a long time for me to warm up to people. I know very few of the neighbors here in O'Fallon, for example, and have never really socialized with any of them. I don't like to think about remarrying because I know it would be darned near impossible for me to make that kind of decision in less time than it took to make it the first time. Then, too, three dates is about right. I think I can tell if we were compatible in that amount of time. Just making the commitment for something longer term would not be easy for me. I'm prepared to end up living out of a cardboard box and freezing to death from the snow up to my eyebrows. They won't find me until spring time. Now that I actually think about it, it's more likely I'll drown from flood waters down here in MO. LOL
I did some serious care giving for the last few years of my mom's life. She lived with us and I didn't think it was any more than the right thing to do. It wasn't until after she had passed on that I realized what kind of strain that puts on a person to be responsible for another's life. I don't look forward to doing that kind of thing again, and I certainly don't want to burden anyone with my own demise. Unfortunately, I doubt that I'll get to choose what happens.
I dated my wife for five years before it occurred to me to ask her to marry me. The only reason it occurred to me was because her father took me aside one day and asked me what my intentions where. I didn't have any intentions. I guess I assumed we would just be dating until we died. Even these days it takes a long time for me to warm up to people. I know very few of the neighbors here in O'Fallon, for example, and have never really socialized with any of them. I don't like to think about remarrying because I know it would be darned near impossible for me to make that kind of decision in less time than it took to make it the first time. Then, too, three dates is about right. I think I can tell if we were compatible in that amount of time. Just making the commitment for something longer term would not be easy for me. I'm prepared to end up living out of a cardboard box and freezing to death from the snow up to my eyebrows. They won't find me until spring time. Now that I actually think about it, it's more likely I'll drown from flood waters down here in MO. LOL
I did some serious care giving for the last few years of my mom's life. She lived with us and I didn't think it was any more than the right thing to do. It wasn't until after she had passed on that I realized what kind of strain that puts on a person to be responsible for another's life. I don't look forward to doing that kind of thing again, and I certainly don't want to burden anyone with my own demise. Unfortunately, I doubt that I'll get to choose what happens.
Re: Standard Dimensions
I had a few girl friends, not girlfriends, that I hung around with in the early 1960's. Not really interested in them all that much. Then when I was working part-time at a bowling alley out in Ellisville, a girl would come in, sit down at the dining tables and have a soda. At close to the hour, she would jump up and head back out the door. On Monday and Wednesday, it was always from 3:45 to 4:35 like clockwork, then on Saturdays it was from around 2:30 to 3:30, but sometimes fluctuated. She never bowled.
My job duties got changed so I had a chance to be out of the floor, which gave us a second or two to talk. Even talked her into bowling a few lanes while she was there, on my dime. She was their waiting for her sister who was roller skating up at the skating rink. Her sister eventually became pro-skater.
From our early talks I learned her name, and after about two months we ended up going on a couple of dates.
After a few dates we became like two peas in a pod and did almost everything together. We even talked about getting married when I turned 21. I took her to my Junior Prom, then later my Senior Prom and her Junior Prom, then her Senior Prom. We did a lot of things with her parents too, and everyone was just waiting for me to turn 21 so we could get married. Then out of the clear blue sky she disappeared. Her parents though we had eloped until I came by to pick her up on Friday night after work. Her dad was about ready to deck me until he realized I didn't know where she was either. Then we all worried. At least for a few hours until her mom found a note under her bed pillow from her daughter saying she had joined a commune or something and wouldn't be back home.
During this turmoil period, her parents asked if I would take their youngest daughter to her skating sessions, and I agreed.
I usually sat at the table with friends her sister, my gal, knew. One of them was all over me like a rash, but was OK, so we ended up dating for a long time, and after I learned 'my gal' got married from her sister, we started talking about marriage. I knew I should have never married that gal, after two kids, thirteen years of putting up with her going off for points unknown, and learning about her many boyfriends over her excursions, we ended up in a divorce.
I had both of the kids, and tried to find several different activities to keep them busy. I joined PWP to add to the activities.
The PWP railroad ran over me and I was elected president, for two terms too. Right before I became president, I hung around with a slightly older gal who was on the board, along with a close friend of mine from work. She's the one who convinced me to join PWP in the first place, and then coerced me to start dating the gal I hung around with.
This was the one who after we were engaged got sick and broke it off, got sick again and broke it off again, and got sick again and died a week before our scheduled wedding date.
She had no family, and three kids older than mine, so I was appointed as their foster father.
A short time later, still with PWP, another gal had her eye on me. She had two wonderful kids, about the same age as my kids. We dated all late winter, spring, and early summer. Had to stop sorta, because the three foster kids were out of school and staying at my place, along with my two kids. The gal I was dating decided I needed help with that many there, so she came over with her two and helped with dinner, laundry and cleaning.
The oldest foster boy decided to join the service. He did and became a helicopter service tech.
The next oldest foster daughter began her second year of college, and the youngest foster daughter started her senior year at high school. They were home for the winter holiday, then went back to school again.
While they were away at school Ruth and I decided to get married, so with this brood of kids and all the hectic activities which revolved around them and us, we chose April 1st. as our wedding day.
The following fall when the eldest daughter wanted to start her third year of college, and the youngest managed to get into a college, suddenly there was all kinds of legal paperwork come up that put us in a dilemma. Although they were in my foster care, I was not officially a legal guardian and a parent or legal guardian had to sign the papers and co-sign some loans for part of the tuition, books, and dorm fees.
We didn't know what to do, so I talked to our old family attorney, who just happened to golf with a judge who was also a close friend of his, and they talked over our situation.
My attorney called and asked if I still had a copy of the marriage licenses we never finalized, and told me to put in writing the reason why we called off each wedding at the last minute. Plus he needed a copy of my current marriage license. I provided him all of the things he requested. After a weekend and part of the next week, he called me to meet with the judge down at the courthouse. Because both Ruth and I had signed all three of the marriage licenses, and truly intended to marry, but was thwarted by unforeseen circumstances, the judge determined that if not for her sudden illnesses, we would have tied the knot. The documents were all filled out and only needed the signature of the person marrying us.
As it turned out, before Ruth died, she also gave me power of attorney to handle her affairs and estate.
I reminded the judge I was currently married. He looked up and said something to the affect that Today Is, and gave a date two days before Barb passed away.
So as funny as this sounds, the judge looked at me and said, do you take Ruth as your lawfully wedded wife, I said I Do, then he turned to me again and said, speaking in behalf of Ruth, do you Ruth take Gary as your lawfully wedded husband, I said I Do. He signed the third marriage license and put the date down as the date he gave me previously.
Then he offered his condolences that my new wife died so suddenly. And I am now officially a step-parent to her children.
That was all it took to make it possible for me to sign the papers, plus one other benefit I never counted on. The SSA issued a check for 200 bucks to me as the surviving spouse, and I asked the attorney about it and he said it is all on the up and up. Our marriage date is not much different than when a doctor delivers a baby and doesn't file the papers for several months, because he was traveling from town to town. The judge who married me to Barb just took a couple of years to get around to filing the paperwork, hi hi. Because of the way he did it, I was not a bigamist either, hi hi.
I think I mentioned the house I bought for her son when he got out of the service in past messages.
The eldest daughter married the guy she was living with while away at college, and the youngest I held a wedding for after she finished working on her MRS during her first year of college.
Finally, we were down to only four kids in the house!
My job duties got changed so I had a chance to be out of the floor, which gave us a second or two to talk. Even talked her into bowling a few lanes while she was there, on my dime. She was their waiting for her sister who was roller skating up at the skating rink. Her sister eventually became pro-skater.
From our early talks I learned her name, and after about two months we ended up going on a couple of dates.
After a few dates we became like two peas in a pod and did almost everything together. We even talked about getting married when I turned 21. I took her to my Junior Prom, then later my Senior Prom and her Junior Prom, then her Senior Prom. We did a lot of things with her parents too, and everyone was just waiting for me to turn 21 so we could get married. Then out of the clear blue sky she disappeared. Her parents though we had eloped until I came by to pick her up on Friday night after work. Her dad was about ready to deck me until he realized I didn't know where she was either. Then we all worried. At least for a few hours until her mom found a note under her bed pillow from her daughter saying she had joined a commune or something and wouldn't be back home.
During this turmoil period, her parents asked if I would take their youngest daughter to her skating sessions, and I agreed.
I usually sat at the table with friends her sister, my gal, knew. One of them was all over me like a rash, but was OK, so we ended up dating for a long time, and after I learned 'my gal' got married from her sister, we started talking about marriage. I knew I should have never married that gal, after two kids, thirteen years of putting up with her going off for points unknown, and learning about her many boyfriends over her excursions, we ended up in a divorce.
I had both of the kids, and tried to find several different activities to keep them busy. I joined PWP to add to the activities.
The PWP railroad ran over me and I was elected president, for two terms too. Right before I became president, I hung around with a slightly older gal who was on the board, along with a close friend of mine from work. She's the one who convinced me to join PWP in the first place, and then coerced me to start dating the gal I hung around with.
This was the one who after we were engaged got sick and broke it off, got sick again and broke it off again, and got sick again and died a week before our scheduled wedding date.
She had no family, and three kids older than mine, so I was appointed as their foster father.
A short time later, still with PWP, another gal had her eye on me. She had two wonderful kids, about the same age as my kids. We dated all late winter, spring, and early summer. Had to stop sorta, because the three foster kids were out of school and staying at my place, along with my two kids. The gal I was dating decided I needed help with that many there, so she came over with her two and helped with dinner, laundry and cleaning.
The oldest foster boy decided to join the service. He did and became a helicopter service tech.
The next oldest foster daughter began her second year of college, and the youngest foster daughter started her senior year at high school. They were home for the winter holiday, then went back to school again.
While they were away at school Ruth and I decided to get married, so with this brood of kids and all the hectic activities which revolved around them and us, we chose April 1st. as our wedding day.
The following fall when the eldest daughter wanted to start her third year of college, and the youngest managed to get into a college, suddenly there was all kinds of legal paperwork come up that put us in a dilemma. Although they were in my foster care, I was not officially a legal guardian and a parent or legal guardian had to sign the papers and co-sign some loans for part of the tuition, books, and dorm fees.
We didn't know what to do, so I talked to our old family attorney, who just happened to golf with a judge who was also a close friend of his, and they talked over our situation.
My attorney called and asked if I still had a copy of the marriage licenses we never finalized, and told me to put in writing the reason why we called off each wedding at the last minute. Plus he needed a copy of my current marriage license. I provided him all of the things he requested. After a weekend and part of the next week, he called me to meet with the judge down at the courthouse. Because both Ruth and I had signed all three of the marriage licenses, and truly intended to marry, but was thwarted by unforeseen circumstances, the judge determined that if not for her sudden illnesses, we would have tied the knot. The documents were all filled out and only needed the signature of the person marrying us.
As it turned out, before Ruth died, she also gave me power of attorney to handle her affairs and estate.
I reminded the judge I was currently married. He looked up and said something to the affect that Today Is, and gave a date two days before Barb passed away.
So as funny as this sounds, the judge looked at me and said, do you take Ruth as your lawfully wedded wife, I said I Do, then he turned to me again and said, speaking in behalf of Ruth, do you Ruth take Gary as your lawfully wedded husband, I said I Do. He signed the third marriage license and put the date down as the date he gave me previously.
Then he offered his condolences that my new wife died so suddenly. And I am now officially a step-parent to her children.
That was all it took to make it possible for me to sign the papers, plus one other benefit I never counted on. The SSA issued a check for 200 bucks to me as the surviving spouse, and I asked the attorney about it and he said it is all on the up and up. Our marriage date is not much different than when a doctor delivers a baby and doesn't file the papers for several months, because he was traveling from town to town. The judge who married me to Barb just took a couple of years to get around to filing the paperwork, hi hi. Because of the way he did it, I was not a bigamist either, hi hi.
I think I mentioned the house I bought for her son when he got out of the service in past messages.
The eldest daughter married the guy she was living with while away at college, and the youngest I held a wedding for after she finished working on her MRS during her first year of college.
Finally, we were down to only four kids in the house!
Re: Standard Dimensions
You tell some exquisitely interesting stories, but this last one about your marriage is probably the most bizarre one of them all. It's becoming clear to me that nothing about your life is, or ever was, simple. And, that is totally awesome.
About the only thing I can relate to is the roller skating I did while I was of dating age. It's because of that interest I met my wife. I met one of her schoolmates at the rink one night and she invited me to a party that weekend. I guess she intended to show me off to her other girlfriends, but it didn't quite work out that way. Everybody was dancing except me and one other girl. The hostess literally dragged me over to that lone girl and told me to dance with her. Well, that was it. I ignored all those other girls the entire evening and ended up marrying this first girl I ever danced with. LOL
Anyway, one of the coolest things about the roller rink was the genuine old time Wurlitzer organ that some famous musician played every Saturday night - I think his name was Gary something or other too. The pipes were huge and made the floors vibrate, but in addition to the pipes there were at least half a dozen other instruments mounted around them. An animated statue played those instruments and it was like a one man band at the roller rink. I later learned the organ was a one of a kind and sold for tons of money at an auction when the skating rink closed down. Some church bought it.
About the only thing I can relate to is the roller skating I did while I was of dating age. It's because of that interest I met my wife. I met one of her schoolmates at the rink one night and she invited me to a party that weekend. I guess she intended to show me off to her other girlfriends, but it didn't quite work out that way. Everybody was dancing except me and one other girl. The hostess literally dragged me over to that lone girl and told me to dance with her. Well, that was it. I ignored all those other girls the entire evening and ended up marrying this first girl I ever danced with. LOL
Anyway, one of the coolest things about the roller rink was the genuine old time Wurlitzer organ that some famous musician played every Saturday night - I think his name was Gary something or other too. The pipes were huge and made the floors vibrate, but in addition to the pipes there were at least half a dozen other instruments mounted around them. An animated statue played those instruments and it was like a one man band at the roller rink. I later learned the organ was a one of a kind and sold for tons of money at an auction when the skating rink closed down. Some church bought it.
Re: Standard Dimensions
I think each of us have some interesting and often fascinating things to tell about our lives.
That organ sounds awesome by the way.
Way back in late 60's early 70's I was doing freelance photography work.
A friend who was a wedding photographer got backlogged when one of his clients changed their dates.
He still did the wedding, but asked me to handled the reception for him, while he did the other wedding.
Of all the photo's I took at that wedding reception, there is one I had a copy made for myself.
One the bridesmaids, a married gal, kept eyeing me. Seemed like every time I glanced her way, she was watching me.
Later in the evening I was taking a photo across the crowd toward the dance floor.
She was at the table right in front of me and turned around to look at me.
I lowered my camera and adjusted the focus and snapped a picture of her.
After I turned in all the rolls, I told my friend I would like a copy of picture #such n such from roll #such n such.
He gave it to me and I put it in a photo album along with several other interesting photos from my freelance days.
Fast forward two decades. I had been married to Ruth for about five years, the foster kids long gone, and I made a new office. Got out some boxes from the basement that were sitting ever since I moved in. Ruth was looking through those photo albums and ran across that picture.
With the most startled look you ever saw in your life, she turned to me and asked where I got that picture. Before I could answer, she jumped up and grabbed a photo album of hers of her friends wedding. After searching through several pages of photos she found it and showed it to me, the photos were identical.
I told her I was the photographer who took the photos at that wedding reception, and off all of those I took, this was the only one I requested a copy of. You can tell by looking at it why.
She said she tried to get my name from the photographer who did the wedding, but he wouldn't give out that information. I was also married at the time myself, so he never told me a gal was inquiring about me.
One of the first things Ruth did after the discovery was call several of her friends to talk about it.
A few of those friends of hers also talked to me after that and told me some things I can't repeat, hi hi.
How did a Catholic raised boy, end up marrying a Jewish American Princess, was the hot topic for a long time.
Sometimes I think there are more to coincidences than their being simply coincidences.
Especially way to many after I started dating Debi. One miracle right after the other took place.
That organ sounds awesome by the way.
Way back in late 60's early 70's I was doing freelance photography work.
A friend who was a wedding photographer got backlogged when one of his clients changed their dates.
He still did the wedding, but asked me to handled the reception for him, while he did the other wedding.
Of all the photo's I took at that wedding reception, there is one I had a copy made for myself.
One the bridesmaids, a married gal, kept eyeing me. Seemed like every time I glanced her way, she was watching me.
Later in the evening I was taking a photo across the crowd toward the dance floor.
She was at the table right in front of me and turned around to look at me.
I lowered my camera and adjusted the focus and snapped a picture of her.
After I turned in all the rolls, I told my friend I would like a copy of picture #such n such from roll #such n such.
He gave it to me and I put it in a photo album along with several other interesting photos from my freelance days.
Fast forward two decades. I had been married to Ruth for about five years, the foster kids long gone, and I made a new office. Got out some boxes from the basement that were sitting ever since I moved in. Ruth was looking through those photo albums and ran across that picture.
With the most startled look you ever saw in your life, she turned to me and asked where I got that picture. Before I could answer, she jumped up and grabbed a photo album of hers of her friends wedding. After searching through several pages of photos she found it and showed it to me, the photos were identical.
I told her I was the photographer who took the photos at that wedding reception, and off all of those I took, this was the only one I requested a copy of. You can tell by looking at it why.
She said she tried to get my name from the photographer who did the wedding, but he wouldn't give out that information. I was also married at the time myself, so he never told me a gal was inquiring about me.
One of the first things Ruth did after the discovery was call several of her friends to talk about it.
A few of those friends of hers also talked to me after that and told me some things I can't repeat, hi hi.
How did a Catholic raised boy, end up marrying a Jewish American Princess, was the hot topic for a long time.
Sometimes I think there are more to coincidences than their being simply coincidences.
Especially way to many after I started dating Debi. One miracle right after the other took place.
Re: Standard Dimensions
I'll just confirm your observations that one's religion at one time was way more important than it is today in 2019. My wife's entire family was Catholic, except for her mom who was Lutheran. As was customary, the Catholic Church frowned on such situations and made her mother sign papers promising to raise her children as Catholics. I thought that was outrageous even though I myself was raised Catholic. I didn't date a lot of girls, but one that might have been a contender for being my wife happened to be Jewish. The first date with her required me to meet her parents who took one look at me to suspect I was not very Kosher. So, just to be sure, mom asked me if I was Bar Mitzvahed. Sarah warned me in advance so that I lied and said yes. Good thing the interrogation didn't go any further or I would have been very embarrassed. As it happened Sarah was forbidden to see me after a few dates. So I went roller skating on weekends after that. 
Is a coincident really a coincident? I spent a lot of my life pondering that very question. When I worked at Motorola I had to learn a few things about statistics and randomness as it applied to manufacturing. I learned enough to be highly confident that coincident is indeed a random event highly unlikely to happen, yet it must. If there's any doubt about it think of my adventures with the lottery. Only 1 in 250,000,000 will draw the identical numbers that come out of the ping pong ball bin on Saturday night. Yet it happens at least a couple times a month. Seems improbable, but that's the way random occurrences work.
Is a coincident really a coincident? I spent a lot of my life pondering that very question. When I worked at Motorola I had to learn a few things about statistics and randomness as it applied to manufacturing. I learned enough to be highly confident that coincident is indeed a random event highly unlikely to happen, yet it must. If there's any doubt about it think of my adventures with the lottery. Only 1 in 250,000,000 will draw the identical numbers that come out of the ping pong ball bin on Saturday night. Yet it happens at least a couple times a month. Seems improbable, but that's the way random occurrences work.
Last edited by yogi on 05 Jul 2019, 17:21, edited 2 times in total.
Re: Standard Dimensions
My late wife Ruth and I were married by both a Rabbi and by a Baptist minister. The Rabbi was to appease her side of the family, and the Baptist minister was the pastor of the church she went to. Even so, her kids went to Epstein Hebrew Academy.
My mom more or less disowned me for a few years for marrying her, hi hi. But then gave in and invited us over for holidays like Christmas. This didn't come about until after my mom fully realized that Ruth was a Christian, even sang in the Christmas Choir down in the city for the big show they used to have down there each year.
Even so, she was not ever really welcomed by my family and relatives.
Jumping ahead:
After I met Debi, I was just recovering my businesses and finally had them back on the blue side of the ledgers, but still, it took every cent I earned to keep from going back in the red, which meant no spare money for me yet.
I met Debi on-line, and when I wanted to go visit her, I really didn't have the funds to do so, plus I had to get my car checked out and made ready for a trip. So I had that repair bill, plus would have the expense of making a trip.
I got home from the car dealer after having the car fixed, collected my mail, and in it was a check from a guy I had loaned money to back in high school. It was enough to cover getting my car fixed, and making the trip.
A month later when I wanted to make the trip to see her again, out of the clear blue sky, someone else decided to pay me what they owed, not from as far back as high school, but while I was married to my first wife.
I'm not going to get into the details here because they are quite complex and unbelievable. Let's just say it was a miracle and leave it at that.
The amount of funds needed for Debi and I to get married, including all the trips down south and back before then, plus holding our wedding at the most lavish place in Knoxville, and moving her and all of her and her sons belongings up to St. Loo. What would you say if I said not one thin dime for all of that came out of my budget. All the funds appeared at my doorstep from an unknown source, and not from anyone I knew personally, nor from my church members or anyone else I may have known. In fact, only a few people knew I had met someone and was considering marriage.
After we were married and moved to my house in Creve Coeur, things were looking up, the couple of houses I was in the process of renovating sold, I got orders for my hot foil stamping business, and some products I was making back then.
Everything looked great and we did well, I didn't let her go back to work for over six months, but she was going stir crazy at home and chose to land a job nearby.
We were moving ahead, and I was actually able to keep up with the high payments on my house. Bought another house to renovate and had it sold when 9/11 hit, and the banks pulled all B-paper mortgages so the house sat empty over the winter. You know the rest, I ended up auctioning everything else, and after learning of her parents plight decided to move down there to take care of them.
What are the odds of someone from high school locating where I now lived and sending me a check?
Same with the other checks that came in after that.
And to this day, we cannot track the source of the major funds for our wedding.
We know who delivered the funds, because of the check, but even they did not know where the funds came from, which I thought was strange too. They even said, it's not that we are not telling you, the funds were placed in your name anonymously. And then there is the envelope. We took the envelope to Hampton Envelope Company to see if they knew who made it. It was the size of a Fed-Ex cardboard mailer. A light forest green in color. They kept it for over a month, and when we got it back from them, they said they could not ascertain who made it, nor the type of ink used to print the outside of the envelope. They were not even certain of what type of fiber was used to make the envelope. The company who sent us the check said they used a small white business envelope, not the envelope I showed them.
Strange, very strange. I really thing the big guy upstairs is who pulled it off somehow.
There is more to this story, like checking the banks security cameras that faced my house, and a few other things.
We do not know how the envelope got stuck to my door either.
No cars or trucks were on my street before, during, or after the envelope appeared on my door.
I sure wish another one would appear on my door today, hi hi.
My mom more or less disowned me for a few years for marrying her, hi hi. But then gave in and invited us over for holidays like Christmas. This didn't come about until after my mom fully realized that Ruth was a Christian, even sang in the Christmas Choir down in the city for the big show they used to have down there each year.
Even so, she was not ever really welcomed by my family and relatives.
Jumping ahead:
After I met Debi, I was just recovering my businesses and finally had them back on the blue side of the ledgers, but still, it took every cent I earned to keep from going back in the red, which meant no spare money for me yet.
I met Debi on-line, and when I wanted to go visit her, I really didn't have the funds to do so, plus I had to get my car checked out and made ready for a trip. So I had that repair bill, plus would have the expense of making a trip.
I got home from the car dealer after having the car fixed, collected my mail, and in it was a check from a guy I had loaned money to back in high school. It was enough to cover getting my car fixed, and making the trip.
A month later when I wanted to make the trip to see her again, out of the clear blue sky, someone else decided to pay me what they owed, not from as far back as high school, but while I was married to my first wife.
I'm not going to get into the details here because they are quite complex and unbelievable. Let's just say it was a miracle and leave it at that.
The amount of funds needed for Debi and I to get married, including all the trips down south and back before then, plus holding our wedding at the most lavish place in Knoxville, and moving her and all of her and her sons belongings up to St. Loo. What would you say if I said not one thin dime for all of that came out of my budget. All the funds appeared at my doorstep from an unknown source, and not from anyone I knew personally, nor from my church members or anyone else I may have known. In fact, only a few people knew I had met someone and was considering marriage.
After we were married and moved to my house in Creve Coeur, things were looking up, the couple of houses I was in the process of renovating sold, I got orders for my hot foil stamping business, and some products I was making back then.
Everything looked great and we did well, I didn't let her go back to work for over six months, but she was going stir crazy at home and chose to land a job nearby.
We were moving ahead, and I was actually able to keep up with the high payments on my house. Bought another house to renovate and had it sold when 9/11 hit, and the banks pulled all B-paper mortgages so the house sat empty over the winter. You know the rest, I ended up auctioning everything else, and after learning of her parents plight decided to move down there to take care of them.
What are the odds of someone from high school locating where I now lived and sending me a check?
Same with the other checks that came in after that.
And to this day, we cannot track the source of the major funds for our wedding.
We know who delivered the funds, because of the check, but even they did not know where the funds came from, which I thought was strange too. They even said, it's not that we are not telling you, the funds were placed in your name anonymously. And then there is the envelope. We took the envelope to Hampton Envelope Company to see if they knew who made it. It was the size of a Fed-Ex cardboard mailer. A light forest green in color. They kept it for over a month, and when we got it back from them, they said they could not ascertain who made it, nor the type of ink used to print the outside of the envelope. They were not even certain of what type of fiber was used to make the envelope. The company who sent us the check said they used a small white business envelope, not the envelope I showed them.
Strange, very strange. I really thing the big guy upstairs is who pulled it off somehow.
There is more to this story, like checking the banks security cameras that faced my house, and a few other things.
We do not know how the envelope got stuck to my door either.
No cars or trucks were on my street before, during, or after the envelope appeared on my door.
I sure wish another one would appear on my door today, hi hi.
Re: Standard Dimensions
For some people metaphysics is a magnetically alluring subject. While I've always had an interest in such things, I never had the good fortune to learn enough to discuss it intelligently. I can recognize it when I see it written, and your narratives sometimes touch upon things not well defined in the physical world. We suppose there is more to existence than reality, but us humans are hardly capable of perceptions beyond our senses. Thus the phenomena of coincidence can become one of great intrigue.
It would seem likely that you had an anonymous benefactor, and some not so anonymous, at the time you and Ruth were starting a life together. My instinct is to say your financial good fortune occurred in the real world wherein a real individual interceded at just the right moment. The impeccable timing is what makes it all seem like divine intervention. Perhaps it was. I've not seen compelling evidence of such divinity interacting with mere mortals so that I look for other explanations for events such as the ones you describe. I'm at a slight disadvantage in that I don't know all the circumstances surrounding your good fortune – obviously, you are not fully informed yourself. I am reasonably confident some human(s) helped you out financially. How or why they were motivated to do so, could be metaphysical in nature. Or not.
Winning big in the lottery is not a totally selfish dream of mine. I would indeed take care of myself and my family before all else should I suddenly become exceptionally wealthy. I've already planned in a limited way how to go about handling large sums of money. One of the things I would feel compelled to do is to give some of it back. It would come to me by virtue of some very good luck, and it would only be proper for me to share some of that good fortune. Random acts of kindness are not unknown, and that's what I'd like to do in a big way. I know of a few circumstances wherein I can spread some well deserved good fortune, and I think I'd be inclined to do it anonymously. Of course, if you mysteriously received the equivalent of a Cray Computer some day and a year's worth of tech support to get it all set up, you might have your suspicions.
It would seem likely that you had an anonymous benefactor, and some not so anonymous, at the time you and Ruth were starting a life together. My instinct is to say your financial good fortune occurred in the real world wherein a real individual interceded at just the right moment. The impeccable timing is what makes it all seem like divine intervention. Perhaps it was. I've not seen compelling evidence of such divinity interacting with mere mortals so that I look for other explanations for events such as the ones you describe. I'm at a slight disadvantage in that I don't know all the circumstances surrounding your good fortune – obviously, you are not fully informed yourself. I am reasonably confident some human(s) helped you out financially. How or why they were motivated to do so, could be metaphysical in nature. Or not.
Winning big in the lottery is not a totally selfish dream of mine. I would indeed take care of myself and my family before all else should I suddenly become exceptionally wealthy. I've already planned in a limited way how to go about handling large sums of money. One of the things I would feel compelled to do is to give some of it back. It would come to me by virtue of some very good luck, and it would only be proper for me to share some of that good fortune. Random acts of kindness are not unknown, and that's what I'd like to do in a big way. I know of a few circumstances wherein I can spread some well deserved good fortune, and I think I'd be inclined to do it anonymously. Of course, if you mysteriously received the equivalent of a Cray Computer some day and a year's worth of tech support to get it all set up, you might have your suspicions.
Re: Standard Dimensions
Considering what the Bible says about Mammon, I would discount God handing out money.
But I wouldn't discount Him setting the wheels in motion for someone else to do so.
Look at what JC said about the Alms box, and the Widows Mite.
Just for clarity, it was with Debi that all of these things happened.
I could strike off getting paid back for a High School loan as a simple coincidence it arrived a couple of days before I was to leave on a trip I really couldn't afford at the time.
But when it happened a second time, the amount I had received was exactly the same amount I spent going on the trip, plus or minus some pocket change, but it was right down to the dollar amounts were the same.
Let me talk about the bank for a moment. The ATM has a camera inside their ATM machine, but it is only activated when a car is at the ATM or someone touches any button on the ATM.
However, on the outside of the bank are several cameras. Most of them covering the parking lots and doors. But three is one that points directly at the drive up tubes, which catches a part of the ATM lane, and one that points directly at the ATM machine. After the wall fell down, this camera can see the front door on my house, and from the edge of my neighbors house on Tempo, all the way to the next street east named Flair.
Although the image is not in focus, it is still clear enough you can count the small window panes in my front windows.
You can also see when a car turns off of Tempo onto my street, or if one comes down the street past Flair or turns off Flair to go by my house to Tempo to exit the subdivision.
Not one single car, or person walking down my street was visible on the camera for five minutes before or three minutes after the green envelope appeared stuck to my door. Even if you stepped through the tape one frame at a time, you do not see a hand or anything, the door is plain in one shot, and in the very next there is the envelope. Heck, the film even showed me getting home and as I reached to pull the envelope off the door, it simply fell into my hand. Unfortunately my body blocked this from the camera, which is a shame. There was no adhesive on the outside of the envelope or on my door, and no nail, tack, or pin. No holes in the door or the envelope. So what held it up there? Or the big question, how did it get there?
I knew no one with that kind of money, and almost nobody at all knew I had met a gal on-line either, much less that we talked about possibly marriage already.
From the git go, I thought perhaps it was an insurance check from my late wife's insurance. Trouble is, I already received that check after she died, and used it to pay off the loan I took out to bury her, and this was more than twice that amount. The company that issued the check could not figure out how it wound up in their system to issue it to me, but they mailed it out in a normal business size envelope via the USPS. When they checked how the money got into the account to pay me, they couldn't find anything at all about it, so said it must have been placed there anonymously.
There were totally hush hush about when it was placed in the account for me also, everything about it was not the way they do business. In other words, it was just a dead end.
I already mentioned Hampton Envelope Companies findings, which was also another dead end. They didn't even know how the envelope was made, the materials, and ink were unfamiliar to them. Another dead end.
I'm going to carry this over to another message, as the topic changes.
But I wouldn't discount Him setting the wheels in motion for someone else to do so.
Look at what JC said about the Alms box, and the Widows Mite.
Just for clarity, it was with Debi that all of these things happened.
I could strike off getting paid back for a High School loan as a simple coincidence it arrived a couple of days before I was to leave on a trip I really couldn't afford at the time.
But when it happened a second time, the amount I had received was exactly the same amount I spent going on the trip, plus or minus some pocket change, but it was right down to the dollar amounts were the same.
Let me talk about the bank for a moment. The ATM has a camera inside their ATM machine, but it is only activated when a car is at the ATM or someone touches any button on the ATM.
However, on the outside of the bank are several cameras. Most of them covering the parking lots and doors. But three is one that points directly at the drive up tubes, which catches a part of the ATM lane, and one that points directly at the ATM machine. After the wall fell down, this camera can see the front door on my house, and from the edge of my neighbors house on Tempo, all the way to the next street east named Flair.
Although the image is not in focus, it is still clear enough you can count the small window panes in my front windows.
You can also see when a car turns off of Tempo onto my street, or if one comes down the street past Flair or turns off Flair to go by my house to Tempo to exit the subdivision.
Not one single car, or person walking down my street was visible on the camera for five minutes before or three minutes after the green envelope appeared stuck to my door. Even if you stepped through the tape one frame at a time, you do not see a hand or anything, the door is plain in one shot, and in the very next there is the envelope. Heck, the film even showed me getting home and as I reached to pull the envelope off the door, it simply fell into my hand. Unfortunately my body blocked this from the camera, which is a shame. There was no adhesive on the outside of the envelope or on my door, and no nail, tack, or pin. No holes in the door or the envelope. So what held it up there? Or the big question, how did it get there?
I knew no one with that kind of money, and almost nobody at all knew I had met a gal on-line either, much less that we talked about possibly marriage already.
From the git go, I thought perhaps it was an insurance check from my late wife's insurance. Trouble is, I already received that check after she died, and used it to pay off the loan I took out to bury her, and this was more than twice that amount. The company that issued the check could not figure out how it wound up in their system to issue it to me, but they mailed it out in a normal business size envelope via the USPS. When they checked how the money got into the account to pay me, they couldn't find anything at all about it, so said it must have been placed there anonymously.
There were totally hush hush about when it was placed in the account for me also, everything about it was not the way they do business. In other words, it was just a dead end.
I already mentioned Hampton Envelope Companies findings, which was also another dead end. They didn't even know how the envelope was made, the materials, and ink were unfamiliar to them. Another dead end.
I'm going to carry this over to another message, as the topic changes.
Re: Standard Dimensions
Second Part of previous message.
Life was good up until 9/11 when everything went downhill.
But could it have been a blessing?
Although I sold everything I owned, except my clothes and some old family heirlooms and photographs, at an auction, where I made a miserably small amount. What I did make at auction was enough to pay off all of my bills and even have 3 grand left over, which I used part of to buy a trailer. I did keep some boxes, bottles, and caps for my tabletop business, which I also loaded on the trailer to take with me.
But there is one amazing thing here. I was totally debt free, I owed nobody not one red cent. This was a heavy burden lifted off of my shoulders. Until the closings for my properties took place, I had to stay in St. Louis. I took Debi back home to her parents house, where she immediately landed a job. I was also in ill health after all of this, but that's for another story. Suffice it to say, in all likelihood, I would die within the next six months or so, but lets leave it at that since I didn't.
I managed to snag one small order for my product while I was staying in my mom's basement. I was also doing work for her to help her move to a seniors center. I refinished her concrete driveway, removed all the carpeting in her house, sanded and refinished the floors, and repainted the interior while there, for free of course.
With all of the projects done for mom, and my brother helped her get rid of her things and to move to the seniors center, I headed on south with the trailer as full as it could possibly get. A few things from mom were squeezed in.
Debi's mom and dad let us move in with them, one small room that used to be Debi and her sisters room when they were growing up, now used mostly for storage, which we cleaned out and moved to either the attic or garage.
I got another small order for my tabletop business and did that. It gave me enough funds to buy a derelict piece of property with a small house on it. This was just a tiny three room concrete slab house that needed tons of work.
It took me a couple of months to get it up to code, but had not yet put the drywall up. Had to wait for another order to proceed with that project. During this waiting time, Debi's dad, the healthy one, got sick and died in the hospital, leaving her invalid mom with no one to take care of her. I took over that duty so Debi could continue to work.
I also got an order to fill, which I did on their kitchen table. I used most of that money for drywall, and worked on the house in the evening after Debi got home from work, so she could watch her mom.
This is when we decided to sell the house I was working on.
From its sale, I made enough money to buy off Debi's sisters share of her mom's estate, so it could be put in Debi's name. This was a lengthy process to do in the legal ways I needed to do it to save the daughters from having to pay an inheritance tax, which at that time, the Obama era, was 48%, which nobody could afford to pay. It's a good thing I was in the Real Estate business prior to then and knew exactly all the steps required to get the house titles changed to her kids.
Ever since, I began remodeling the house one room at a time, which is the hardest way to do something. Especially when you consider the house is old, the ceilings too low and the floors as bad as a golfing green.
What I wanted to do was lift the roof and add two more courses of blocks to make the ceilings come out to just under 9 feet, and then raise the floor to level so it would end up with 8 foot ceilings throughout. Then it would just be a matter of squaring up the partition walls.
Well, since her mom was still alive, I had to do the most important room first, the bathroom, which was ready to fall through the floor. Plus the floors in there were so crooked, it was like a ski slope.
But here we are, the house not quite completely finished, Debi's mom long gone, and my health in decline.
However, other than recurring monthly bills, we are still debt free. Our combined SS checks barely cover the frau's medicines, and she's already in the doughnut hole. But we are happy and keeping our head above water.
So all is good!
Life was good up until 9/11 when everything went downhill.
But could it have been a blessing?
Although I sold everything I owned, except my clothes and some old family heirlooms and photographs, at an auction, where I made a miserably small amount. What I did make at auction was enough to pay off all of my bills and even have 3 grand left over, which I used part of to buy a trailer. I did keep some boxes, bottles, and caps for my tabletop business, which I also loaded on the trailer to take with me.
But there is one amazing thing here. I was totally debt free, I owed nobody not one red cent. This was a heavy burden lifted off of my shoulders. Until the closings for my properties took place, I had to stay in St. Louis. I took Debi back home to her parents house, where she immediately landed a job. I was also in ill health after all of this, but that's for another story. Suffice it to say, in all likelihood, I would die within the next six months or so, but lets leave it at that since I didn't.
I managed to snag one small order for my product while I was staying in my mom's basement. I was also doing work for her to help her move to a seniors center. I refinished her concrete driveway, removed all the carpeting in her house, sanded and refinished the floors, and repainted the interior while there, for free of course.
With all of the projects done for mom, and my brother helped her get rid of her things and to move to the seniors center, I headed on south with the trailer as full as it could possibly get. A few things from mom were squeezed in.
Debi's mom and dad let us move in with them, one small room that used to be Debi and her sisters room when they were growing up, now used mostly for storage, which we cleaned out and moved to either the attic or garage.
I got another small order for my tabletop business and did that. It gave me enough funds to buy a derelict piece of property with a small house on it. This was just a tiny three room concrete slab house that needed tons of work.
It took me a couple of months to get it up to code, but had not yet put the drywall up. Had to wait for another order to proceed with that project. During this waiting time, Debi's dad, the healthy one, got sick and died in the hospital, leaving her invalid mom with no one to take care of her. I took over that duty so Debi could continue to work.
I also got an order to fill, which I did on their kitchen table. I used most of that money for drywall, and worked on the house in the evening after Debi got home from work, so she could watch her mom.
This is when we decided to sell the house I was working on.
From its sale, I made enough money to buy off Debi's sisters share of her mom's estate, so it could be put in Debi's name. This was a lengthy process to do in the legal ways I needed to do it to save the daughters from having to pay an inheritance tax, which at that time, the Obama era, was 48%, which nobody could afford to pay. It's a good thing I was in the Real Estate business prior to then and knew exactly all the steps required to get the house titles changed to her kids.
Ever since, I began remodeling the house one room at a time, which is the hardest way to do something. Especially when you consider the house is old, the ceilings too low and the floors as bad as a golfing green.
What I wanted to do was lift the roof and add two more courses of blocks to make the ceilings come out to just under 9 feet, and then raise the floor to level so it would end up with 8 foot ceilings throughout. Then it would just be a matter of squaring up the partition walls.
Well, since her mom was still alive, I had to do the most important room first, the bathroom, which was ready to fall through the floor. Plus the floors in there were so crooked, it was like a ski slope.
But here we are, the house not quite completely finished, Debi's mom long gone, and my health in decline.
However, other than recurring monthly bills, we are still debt free. Our combined SS checks barely cover the frau's medicines, and she's already in the doughnut hole. But we are happy and keeping our head above water.
So all is good!
Re: Standard Dimensions
I must apologize for mixing the names Ruth with Deb in my previous comments. Sometimes my memory isn't as good as I think it is, and other times I'm in a hurry to write things down while the thoughts are still fresh in my mind. Things can and do get mixed up that way.
The description you give of the events surrounding your sudden good fortune certainly contains some mystery and unanswered questions. That does not mean there is no paper trail. It means you don't have all the facts for whatever the reasons. It's hard to imagine any funds suddenly appearing in the banking system with no way to explain how they got there. Anonymous transactions occur daily, but the parties involved remain unknown only up to a certain point. There are many reasons for a donor wanting to be unidentified. The big reason I thought about in my fantasies is that I would be inundated with pleas for help should it become known that I give away free money. I don't know about the Bible or quotes from the characters therein, but I'd agree that it's unlikely there would be direct intervention from some other world. Those spirits are on the other side for a reason, i.e., they no longer have a connection (or interest) in the physical world we know. Could those beings, if they exist, somehow influence events in ways other than direct physical interaction? In your particular case it's easy to assume that possibility. It's also a rarity with no means of verification.
The idea of fate, or destiny, is a tricky one. What seems to be an unlikely event is actually the result of many previous decisions and reactions. You are where you are today due to all the choices you made along the way. Each time you made a decision, that set up some boundaries and limits the possibilities for the next decision. Consider your move to Knoxville. There are opportunities in Tennessee that do not exist in St Louis. But, the possibilities are limited by your present environment and how you interact with it. You would be making different decisions back in Missouri and we would be talking about a line of fate much different than what you are experiencing now. In the end we determine our own fate and destiny.
I think it's good that you feel satisfied and happy. Many people in your situation do not. We can speculate til the end of time about how and why you are where you are. The important point is that you are there. Maximize the potentials therein and you will never have regrets.
The description you give of the events surrounding your sudden good fortune certainly contains some mystery and unanswered questions. That does not mean there is no paper trail. It means you don't have all the facts for whatever the reasons. It's hard to imagine any funds suddenly appearing in the banking system with no way to explain how they got there. Anonymous transactions occur daily, but the parties involved remain unknown only up to a certain point. There are many reasons for a donor wanting to be unidentified. The big reason I thought about in my fantasies is that I would be inundated with pleas for help should it become known that I give away free money. I don't know about the Bible or quotes from the characters therein, but I'd agree that it's unlikely there would be direct intervention from some other world. Those spirits are on the other side for a reason, i.e., they no longer have a connection (or interest) in the physical world we know. Could those beings, if they exist, somehow influence events in ways other than direct physical interaction? In your particular case it's easy to assume that possibility. It's also a rarity with no means of verification.
The idea of fate, or destiny, is a tricky one. What seems to be an unlikely event is actually the result of many previous decisions and reactions. You are where you are today due to all the choices you made along the way. Each time you made a decision, that set up some boundaries and limits the possibilities for the next decision. Consider your move to Knoxville. There are opportunities in Tennessee that do not exist in St Louis. But, the possibilities are limited by your present environment and how you interact with it. You would be making different decisions back in Missouri and we would be talking about a line of fate much different than what you are experiencing now. In the end we determine our own fate and destiny.
I think it's good that you feel satisfied and happy. Many people in your situation do not. We can speculate til the end of time about how and why you are where you are. The important point is that you are there. Maximize the potentials therein and you will never have regrets.