I read a short story from a children’s magazine yesterday, while I was baby-sitting.

Basic summary
- A little girl doesn’t like her activity group
- No one wants to be her friend or is interested in what she has to say
- The wise mother explains that it is nearly impossible to make friends in a group
- The girl invites one of the other girls over to play on a day separate from the activity group
- The two girls become friends
- Now the little girl enjoys the activity group because she has a friend

I read this story and thought nothing of it, until later in the day. I was doing the ‘feeling sorry for myself’ dance, in my head, thinking of how I can ‘know’ a lot of people, but not feel like I am ‘friends’ with most of them. I remembered the story, then finally caught the moral. Friendships do not form just because you spend time together in a group, friends are made by doing things together one-on-one, and finding bonds through commonalities and similar interests.

I think as I have grown older it has become easy to forget about the effort that was put into becoming friends with people that I have known for a long time. Friend making muscles get rusty and out of shape, and it becomes harder to work up the courage to form acquaintances that develop into true friendships.

My challenge for this week is to make a few phone calls to friends I haven’t talked to for a while, and also to spend some time with an acquaintance to see if we have something in common that will help us become real friends.

I also challenge anyone reading this to think of one or two people that you want to get to know better, give them a call this week, invite them over for dinner, or to go on a walk. Go out there and exercise those friend making muscles!

Have you ever sat down to write a blog post and had so many ideas that you couldn’t actually put one down and just give up? That has been the last couple days. Today I have a few, but since this is a relatively new blog, I want to set it up a little better. That is, set the stage.

So, in the spirit of “setting the stage” I want to help frame the discussion by giving a little more background on us, the Cleavers ;). Here goes:

Well, you already know our family demographics, we live in North San Diego County on a 3+ acre ranchette set in the foothills of larger suburban community. Our house is at the end of a little dirt road. Aside from never having to wash our cars (what’s the point?) we don’t hear any of our neighbors, ever.

We moved in about 3 months ago and went straight to work, not only making it a home, but making the land work for us. We constructed a small chicken coop and moved 21 chicks and a turkey into it. Then a large shed/barn (with the exception of the auto-watering system the shed is completely self-sufficient with a solar panel on the roof powering the exhaust fan and cooling system) which currently houses 7 rabbits. There is a horse boarded on the property and cared for by a live-in caretaker. And, just this week, we started up our worm farm to augment our garden.

Now, our garden has been another story. We thought we’d really do it right and built up a 1200 square foot garden. We completely enclosed it with 1″ chicken wire, buried at least 6″ all the way around. We planted EVERYTHING: corn, yellow squash, zucchini, broccoli, spinach, artichokes, sunflowers, beans, yellow onions, red onions, green onions, beefsteak tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, jalapenos, serrano chiles, bell peppers, cayenne peppers, brussel sprouts, carrots, and beets.

Everything came right up and it started looking really good. Then one by one, plants started disappearing. First, it was the beans and sunflowers. Next, the corn. Then the beets, tomatoes, spinach, peppers, and carrots. In a span of only 2 weeks, we went from a thriving vegetable nursery, to NOTHING except the squash and onions.

As the plants disappeared and our frustrations grew, we hunted for answers. The fencing was all intact, so we set traps. And day by day, the traps were sprung, but empty. So, we enlisted our neighbor, the property caretaker who we’ll call James.

As we explained the dilemma to James, he promptly chuckled and said one word, “squirrels.” He directed us to a more effective trap, one he claims to have snagged 120 of the buggers over the last year. But alas, the squirrels had already laid claim to everything they wanted, EVERYTHING but squash and onions. Who’d have thought?

Now, as we plan our next garden attempt, we have factored the squirrels into every equation. We’ll see how it goes.

Since everything is still relatively new, we will, no doubt, continuously update the blog as things develop. But, for now, I am good.

This afternoon, before making our trek to June’s parents’ house for more Olympics, June asked me to take a minute and “snuggle” with her.

Now before your heads get too far into the gutter, let me clarify how WE define snuggling. This is generally a time when we wrap ourselves around each other (fully clothed), and give our complete attention to one another. During this time we give each other the opportunity to unwind physically, mentally, and emotionally. And there are unspoken rules about accusations, judgments, and harshness because snuggle time is a safe time as well as a comforting time.

Why, you may ask, do I venture to bring our intimate moments into the blogosphere for anyone to peruse?

Because the moment we laid down, June’s first comment was, “I wish there was some way we could get paid to snuggle.”

After the comment sunk in, it got me to thinking, ‘Is there some way to get paid for snuggling?’

Aside from opening a cat house in Vegas or streaming live video feeds from the bedroom (neither of which are options), I have come up blank so far. So, if you have any ideas, let me know.

But, the conversation illustrates our personal circumstances, which are becoming all too familiar in the current economy. Struggling middle-class family, suffering from both lay offs and depressed consumer spending. June was recently laid off from a job where she was seldom working anyways. And my business is, dare I say, drowning in the whirlpool of credit woes, astronomic gas prices, and freefalling home values - people are pinching their pennies. And, frankly, I can’t say that I blame them.

These circumstances have given us both a little more stress than we’d like as newlyweds, but it has also helped us unite in our efforts to find ways to pinch pennies and search for new revenue streams. In fact some of our snuggle time has been reserved for just these kinds of discussions. And because our snuggle time is a “safe time” we are able to be more creative in the ideas we submit to the brainstorms.

My guess is [if] our financial condition continues to sink, our “snuggle time” will increase as much or more; and that might not be such a bad thing. . .

June and I have spent many hours at her parents’ house this week watching the Beijing Olympics. We’ve hooted and hollered for Michael Phelps with each of his victories. We’ve booed the scoring of our gymnasts. And we’ve sat agape at the skill and coordination of the Chinese synchronized divers. What a ride, and we’re only at the half way point.

As I type, Michael Phelps last final is minutes away. Dara Torres is taking the starting block. Will she be the fastest woman in water at the perky young age of 41? They are off, and NOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Dara loses the race by 1/100th of a second. What a bummer.

Have you been watching the girl’s beach volleyball? I don’t think that anything can stop Misty May-Treanor and Kerry Walsh. And the men’s teams seem to be top contenders as well.

Anyways, I just checked the medal count and we are leading the hunt with 57 total medals. However, China, with 50, in second place overall still leads us in gold medals by 11.

So, this is me being a conspiracy theorist. Everybody is talking about the age of the Chinese gymnasts and how their government has “allegedly” falsified passports. But, I can’t wait to find out that they have been secretly doping using some new concoction with no test available. And that the Chinese have been tainting the food of our athletes (have you heard how many of our swimmers have had stomach problems this week?). OK, I know it isn’t cool to promote these crazy theories, but I don’t have a lot of faith in China. So sorry.

All I can say is GO TEAM USA!!!

Have you ever been in a similar position to the uncomfortable one I have found myself in repeatedly this first Olympic week? Let me explain.

June and I decided several months ago that donating our hard earned cash to the local cable company to help us waste away hours each week was a rather illogical and costly expense (for us). So, we cut the cord, so to speak, and have been without regular programming since last winter. Being rather patriotic, this life decision presented an awkward dilemma for us in trying to find an appropriate venue to root on Team USA during the Beijing Olympics. While we have several friends living nearby, we haven’t quite pushed the embarrassment of telling people we are too cheap for cable out of our minds. So, we have been driving 16 miles, each way, to June’s parents house to watch the Games, often sneaking out well after midnight.

Watching NBC’s coverage of the XXIX Olympiad has been quite exciting at times. Did you see Michael Phelps’ fingernail finish in the 100-meter butterfly? Good grief. However, sitting next to my mother-in-law (MIL) when the Gardasil commercials come on makes me squirm. You know the ads: cycling through pictures of young, athletic, beautiful girls in their teens and early twenties professing their determination to avoid cervical cancer, caused by human papilloma virus (HPV), by receiving simple inoculations with Merck’s new miracle vaccine, Gardasil.

When one of these commercials come on, June and her mother immediately break into chorus bemoaning the underlying message of early and prolific sex. These commercials aim to bring in, what one site figures to be, $5.2 million per case of cervical cancer obviated by Gardasil. But, June and her mom, loudly decry the commercials’ intentions as a front to telling underage girls that it’s now safer to be sexually active, because this “vaccine” will protect you from yet another consequence of promiscuity.

Then one of the all-too-familiar commercials peddling the “penis-pepper-upper” pills pop up, pun intended. Remember the warnings, “Call your doctor immediately if you have an erection that lasts more than 4 hours.” What the heck?!?!? 4 HOURS?!?!?!?

By this time, I’m ready to crawl into a hole. MIL expressing her disgust at the sex peddlers, June seconding every motion, and me feeling almost perverse for spoiling MIL’s only daughter. Should I feel that awkward? Probably not. But I must confess, I am quite certain I wasn’t MIL’s first choice. Either way, it never seems too comfortable.

Now, I will be the first to admit being strongly against premarital and extramarital sex. But, aside from the moral implications these commercials may evoke in the viewers, consider the morality of the advertisers. Pharmaceutical companies regularly report obscene revenues, but have you ever looked at their costs. R&D and marketing add up quick, who can blame them for trying to make every advertising dollar count? But, playing into the “sex sells” mentality is really weak in my mind. I mean, bravo, it works, but what are the societal costs. You have 9-year-old girls being told that their is a vaccine for a condition that is caused by something they shouldn’t even be thinking about for at least another decade. And you wouldn’t ever see one of those commercials telling these girls that abstinence is the only 100% method of preventing ALL STD’s, including HPV.

And for the last couple years Merck has sunk even lower. They’ve been lobbying states throughout the union to adopt policies mandating vaccinations of ALL girls as a prerequisite for attending public schools. Texas was among the first to implement the mandate requiring that girls entering 6th grade must have been vaccinated before school starts. Scary thought? Can you imagine having to explain to your 11-year old daughter that she has to get a vaccination to protect her from sexually-transmitted diseases?

“Mommy, what is a sexually-transmitted disease?”

“Well honey, it is a disease that you get through sexual intercourse.”

“Mommy, what is sexual intercourse?”

” Well honey . . .”

And this discussion now being mandated by the government. It has to come someday, but geez, what else is the government (and big business) going to do to intrude on the four walls of our homes?

When will Americans stand up and say enough is enough? Do we put our foot down with sex vaccines for 6th graders? Do we raise our voices when our 3rd graders come home from school to report that they learned how babies are made at school today? Or do we take a stand when our kindergardeners come home showing off the condoms they were handed out after learning what happens in the bedroom?