Tuesday, March 8, 2005
08:02 p.m.
Sam Goes Snowmobiling
  O.K., first thing's first: Sorry to all of you waiting to see my snowmobiling pictures. There just aren't enough hours in a day to get everything done.

  This picture was taken by Chad, a childhood friend of mine who went snowmobiling with me this year.
  We had a foot of fresh powder at least one of the days there. And while the locals didn't think the snow was that great, it was the best we'd ever seen.

  I wish the pictures I took turned out a little better, but to be honest, no picture will ever do justice to everything we experienced.
  Here is a picture of my friend Chad Ascheman.

  Yeah, that's safe Sam... take a picture while cruising down the trail at 70 Mph.
  At least the picture turned out!

  We stomped down into the snow, as far as we could to show some of the base. I was standing on ice, but I think there was at least another few feet of snow under my feet.
  After three days of snowmobiling, Chad turned himself into a tourist, and I split off to do some snowboarding up at Jackson Hole. (Thanks again for the free pass, Michele!)
  Every night, we hit the town or made some local party. And I don't know if any of them will ever read this, but both Chad and I are eternally thankful that Michele and her friends, Tom, Shawn (and the dozens of others) made us feel so welcome in Jackson. This trip really was full of memories to last a lifetime!

  While I was digging through some old files, I came across a couple of inspirational/non-inspirational posters, and since some of you have written to say how you enjoy them, I thought I'd post a couple more:



  I had to add the last one, because I just went on vacation last month.

How to build a Rustic/Primitive Coffee Table
Design and Article by Sam Sinke

  I've been wanting to share this article for some time, and I finally had enough of it together to upload it to my website.
  I have no doubt that all of you will become so excited, you will run right out and start making your own rustic and primitive furniture.
  Oh, and regarding the classes of furniture known as rustic and primitive: I am not here to argue the points of which is which and why. I am only doing this to share some of my design ideas.
  Two of my designs have actually sold, but don't think I'm going to make a career of making furniture. I enjoy doing it, but not that much.

  Start with five posts. it's pretty easy to find free pieces. 8' posts usually cost a few dollars each.
  Be sure they are dry, and apply a deck wash to get most of the green-treat off of the wood.
  Nail down two cross pieces to hold it together.
  Add a couple of dabs of wood glue.

  You can save this step for later.
  Lay some old barn or garage siding, or even old wood palate pieces across the top.

  I like to lay the pieces at a 45-degree angle, but you may prefer to lay them across.
  I haven't done this, so I don't know what it does to the overall structural integrity of the piece and can't vouch for how strong the table will be.
  I was able to dance on my tables.
  Insert table dance joke here.

  Sometimes old and abused wood will bring you the best looking table.
  Don't worry about knots, don't worry about dings.
  For now, pull the old nails and save them for later. Use deck or drywall screws now, because you will make some mistakes.
  And you need to be able to back up.

  Using a circular saw, cut off the excess.
  Note how I “nicked” some of the pieces.
  I left it that way, and it added to the character of the piece.
  The blade was set to cut a little too deep, but we are new at this, so we won't let these little things bother us.
  Also note the chalk line in the foreground.
  Because if you have one, it will come in very useful.

  You could leave a 1-inch “lip” hanging over the piece, but be sure you think ahead.
  The wood must overhang the piece enough on each side to make this work.
  If a piece comes off that looks big enough to save for another project, keep it.
  But the pieces here just aren't big enough.
  Put these in the burn barrel.
  Chalk lines are sweet. Use them.
  Here's my $9 circular saw.
  You don't need expensive tools to make rustic or primitive furniture.
  My $9 circular saw was purchased at a pawn shop, and it has worked great for the past two years.

  Here I've zipped off all these sides, and added extra screws to any loose corner pieces.
  Some middle pieces look and feel rotted in places, but the surrounding wood is solid.

  There are a few good leftover pieces, but I just threw it all in the burn pile.   Most of the wood used in this table comes from a barn that fell down, so there are ample materials.   I also use palates to finish the tops, and broken palates are very easy to find.   They are sometimes made of oak or other hardwoods, and hold up very well.   Here is the tricky part... Legs.
  Be sure to note the finished table in the background.
  We will take a closer look at it later.
  Be sure to use gorilla glue, or your favorite wood glue for this step.
  Put some big, long screws through the legs.
  I used a little scrap piece to hold up one leg.
  Safety items in the back include ear muffs, and a straw hat for the hot Kansas sun.

  I'm skipping ahead a little bit by showing you the finished product, but it shows how to attach cross pieces to the legs.
  I usually start with two cross pieces and long screws close to the corner posts.
  There are two more 1x4 pieces running underneath, attaching to the legs and the cross-pieces you see here. Then, the two most necessary pieces, the big cross-pieces that hold two of the legs together lengthwise, and screw a cross-piece on to the legs about an inch or so above the floor.

  Give yourself enough space, because the last step is to take out the chainsaw and trim the one or two legs down until the table is level and does not wobble.
  The project was finished with a 50/50 mix of Orange Shellac and Denatured Alcohol.
  This mix appears to dry fast, but be sure to let the piece dry for a few days before you bring it in your house.
  Place it in a clean spot on the floor, and look for any signs of insects or excessive drying.
  Sometimes the piece will “shed” if it has not been given enough time to dry.
  Purchase some cheap throw rugs to place under the piece until it stops shedding.
  You may need to add the shellac-alcohol mixture again, especially if the wood really soaks it up.


Head Check
  I used to think, because I was always told so, that you are your own worst critic.
  And I'm here to tell you today that it's just not true. At least it isn't true for me. My worst critic is, apparently, my grandmother.
  I was asked to speak at my Aunt Pat's funeral last month. It was an easy speech to write: I was always told to write about what you know, so I wrote about my own experiences with Pat.
  Everyone I talked to after the memorial service told me that I'd done a good job, and really enjoyed what I had to share with everyone.
  I didn't make it through the whole speech without getting choked up. That was my intention, but it was impossible.
  Two days later, at my grandmother's house, she just plain LET ME HAVE IT! I was told to get down on my knees and ask my mom for her deepest forgiveness, and then told that I didn't deserve it for what I had said. Then she went on to say that I only wrote about myself and I should have only said things about Pat. She then said that she'd said her peace, and that we would have to now drop it because she wasn't interested in anything I had to say.
  I love my grandma so much, and have always trusted her more than any other woman on the earth. So to have her believe this and say this made this one of the lowest moments in my life.
  I was lifted up that night when I stopped to see my mom down in Spring Valley. I wasn't planning on going through there, but after talking with friends they insisted that I needed to do this now, rather than sit on it for a while.
  And that's when my mom told me how she enjoyed the speech and didn't understand what her mom was so worked up about. She discussed with my stepdad Roger what he thought about it, and he said to her what he told me later that it was well done.
  My mom said further that she didn't raise her kids to take everything back that they said or wrote. And even though not taking things back has gotten me into a little bit of trouble now and then, I have to hand it to my mom for helping me to be a better reader and writer.
  So with this preamble to help you, the reader understand why this has taken me so long to post on my website, and to help you understand just a little more about me, here is the speech I gave to remember my Aunt, Patricia Marie Davies at her memorial service.
  She passed away on what happened to be my 30th birthday, February 22, 2005 after a more than 2-year battle with brain cancer. My friend Donna put it well. She was born an angel the same day I was born on earth.
  Whatever you believe, in heaven, in reincarnation, or in Norse Gods, my aunt was truely forged in the kiln of Valhalla. She's the strongest person I've ever known, and will be looking after all of us now.
  This article was reconstructed from the original speech I wrote for the memorial. The actual speech was much shorter.

Aunt Pat
  My Aunt Pat didn't particularily like Spring. She didn't like how it was so muddy. Because when everything is muddy, you just really can't go anywhere in the woods or really get anything done.

  So I told her once about how much I loved Spring. Everything that is brown and old and dead from the winter starts to show new life, as green starts shooting out from everywhere, pushes up from the ground, and makes everything smell so fresh and new.

(And she looked at me like I was crazy.)

  For some reason, I feel like I got to see a whole different side of my aunt Pat than everybody else. She was cool and hip, had a lot of great ideas about how the world works and how people should work and behave. Many of you will probably remember Pat Davies as a lady who was smartly dressed, quick with a smile, and someone who fit into the school or the community with the grace of a well-fitting glove.

  As for me, I'll remember the kind aunt who played board games with us and let us win, while the other kids and the parents watched football on Thanksgiving and Christmas. She was just as much at home in a canoe, or hiking up Mt. Rainier in Washington State, or drinking an occasional coffee, or picking wild blueberries, or stopping with us to watch a moose and her calf, or an Elk or some deer by the side of the road.

  I was at my grandma Lyla's farm, telling her about a trip up north with the Davies family. And as I started telling her about how we went to pick blueberries, my grandma interrupted, “Your aunt Pat never picked a berry in her life.” Since I'm not one to argue with my grandma, I moved on to tell a different story about how when I was having coffee with Pat one morning... my grandma interrupted me again, “Your aunt Pat doesn't drink coffee.”

  Did I imagine all of this? Did I make it up? No, the little voice inside my head told me I didn't imagine it, I did indeed pick berries drink some coffee with my aunt Pat.

  I've told many stories about how John and Pat and I did this, or that, and people just don't believe me. But they're all true, mostly.

  All through her life, my aunt Pat was a quiet hero to her friends and family. She was one tough cookie. Most of you didn't get to see this until these last two years, but her family saw her strength every day.

  With her small frame, she bore three kids. The second child, Travis... well... where do I start? When Travis was a little kid, he was what you might have called a little, hyperactive? I was always told that when an adult who was holding him would start to set him down, his legs would start moving before he hit the floor. For Pat to keep up with her son every day, this must have been like running a marathon every day.
  There were times I heard from my mom that Pat was in the hospital for this reason or that, and a few months later she would be up fishing (if it was summer), or on a snowmobiling trip (in the winter). The times when I was lucky enough to be invited along, I could barely keep up with John and Pat. I almost needed a vacation from their vacation.

  I hardly saw the side of Pat that was the librarian, the reader and the teacher. But I ran the numbers a few ways to try to figure out how many hours my Aunt Pat spent teaching and reading to children. The hours add up to, I believe, between 45- to 50-Thousand hours. This equals about five and a half straight years of teaching and reading to children.

  Three of those children sit right here in the front row. Terianne, Travis and Reese are three shining examples of good people. They are the direct result of good parenting.

  When I spent time with the Davies, watching a movie or something on TV and something came on that was inappropriate – there seems to be a lot of that on TV these days – I saw for a moment what it was to be a good parent. My Aunt Pat would talk to Terrianne, Travis or Reese to ask them about what they saw, and would make sure they knew, “Now you know that doing or saying something like that is wrong, don't you?” As you guys got older, you were much more embarrased by being asked such a question, but you always answered your mother, “Yes mom. I know it's wrong.”

  Quite a few summers I was lucky enough to go fishing with the Davies. We used to go to Mud Creek road near Ely, Minnesota. Ely was a popular spot to go before John and Pat built their cabin near Lutsen, Minnesota. I was hanging out with Terianne, Travis and Reese when Terianne and Reese got into a huge fight. I really didn't think it was a big deal until it went to fist-to-cuffs.

  Now I bring up that story for one reason. Terrianne and Reese dearly love each other. They didn't mean to get into a fight. But my Aunt Pat broke up the fight. And she was clearly upset that I had the power to break up the fight, but I didn't. She was disappointed in me, and she told me so.

  And it's O.K to be disappointed in your children when they do something wrong. They need to know that you're disappointed so they can feel bad, and then correct themselves in the future.

  When children do something right, they feel so much stronger knowing they may have screwed up in the past, but this time they really got it right. And whether your mentor is there at your time of achievement or not, it makes no difference because you got it right this time, thanks to them.

  I come from a family of divorce. And while I was 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, I was searching for new mentors. Who could teach me how to love and be loved, now that I thought my parents didn't love each other any more?

  Who could teach me the essentials of life: How to hunt, and fish, pick berries, and snowmobile? You laugh, but these are some important things to me. Those four things, hunting, fishing, picking berries and snowmobiling all taught me a lot about sticking together, working together, helping each other, and getting together to break bread at the end of the day... share stories, have some laughs, drink hot cocoa by a roaring campfire. That's what it is to really live life. And I learned that because my Aunt Pat and Uncle John were there for me.

  And, as a sidebar, I just wanted to tell you another quick story that no one has ever heard about my Aunt Pat. A year or so after my parents divorced, my dad received a letter from his former sister in law. It was a short note to say that she and her family still included him in their prayers. My dad Randy would no longer be a part of the Davies family. He would no longer go to any family reunions, or be a part of the future achievements of weddings, baptisms, graduations and retirements. His own father was drifting away and his only other living relative, his sister was drifting away. Each year he was becoming more and more alone.

  Receiving this small note from my Aunt Pat saying she still thought about him made my dad feel ten feet tall. It was such a simple gesture. And it taught me life's most important lesson. It's the golden rule. And it's the golden rule in every major religion of the world: Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism... they all teach such a simple lesson:

Do onto others as you wish them to do onto you.

  Sometimes life doesn't have to be complicated. If you love someone, or miss someone, or appreciate someone, then tell them. Pick up the phone and call somebody you haven't talked to in a long time. If you can't remember when you last spoke, then now is a perfect time to send them a note, or email them, or tell somebody close to you about a fond memory this person conjures up when you think about them. Doing simple things like that bring us all closer together.

  Let's take just 5 seconds to close our eyes and think about that one person who helped us become who we are today. Think of somebody who read to you, think of somebody who loved you and helped you learn how to love and help others. Think of somebody who wasn't afraid to be disappointed in you once in a while, and then showed you sheer joy and told you how proud of you they were when you accomplished a task or met a goal. Think of them for these ten seconds of silence.

(5 seconds)

  No matter where that person is, here on earth or in heaven, think of how much joy and happiness you bring to them knowing you thought of them today. Maybe, like me, you thought about my aunt Pat. I know she would be so happy that you thought of her today.

  As Pat passes on to heaven, she lives on in each and every one of us as we go out today, to read to children, to love our spouse, our parents, our children and our friends. She lived life like this with almost super-human strength. Even when life would tell her “no” she would go on as if she didn't hear her body say “no.” We all have the strength to go beyond what we're capable of doing. And now, because of her example, we can all go beyond what we're capable, reach farther than our arms will stretch, hold closer those we love, be the best person we can be.

  Through us, she gives us courage to call friends and family we haven't spoken to in a long time, and she helps us send them little notes to let them know that we still think about them.

  May the sun shine on all of you today. And thank you for being here to remember my Aunt Pat.