Well, I finally did it.  I have my own blog.  I’ll be writing my thoughts about cuckoo clocks (which is one of my life’s loves), the Black Forest, and about some environmental things.  I love the earth.  I love the green of the forests, the sound of the ocean, and the smell of the desert when it rains. 

That’s one reason I like cuckoo clocks.  They are crafted by hand - which makes each one unique.  Typically, the carvings are from nature - deer, birds, leaves, etc.  My first cuckoo clock has carved deer, pine trees, and mushrooms.  The warm sound of the cuckoo with the mechanical bellows and gong reminds me of people who heard the same sound from their cuckoo clocks almost 300 years ago.

 Don’t get me wrong.  I love modern technology.  I love my high speed internet connection, 400 channels of cable tv, and my car.  But, I also try to stay connected with things that have a history.  I feel that history is what binds us together as humans.  If we forget about history, we become lost — doomed to repeat the mistakes from the past.

I love that if my power goes out, my cuckoo clock will keep right on ticking.  No batteries, no cords.  Just two little metal pinecones that I need to bring back up underneath the clockcase to keep it going.  Now, granted, my clock loses a minute or two every day and I have to make adjustments.  But, perfection isn’t really the goal of life, is it?  Sometimes we think it is and we try to be perfect — have perfect lives — have perfect relationships — raise perfect kids.  But, perfection is overrated.  It’s taken me 44 years to realize that life is messy.  A good life is especially messy because in order for life to be good we have to take chances.  Many of us aren’t good with risk, so we avoid it and try to be perfect instead.  Perfect is stressful and boring — and, most of all, unrealistic and completely unattainable.  No, give me my messy life with my imperfect family and my cuckoo clock that loses a couple of minutes every day.  Because those are the things that really make me happy.  And, after all, isn’t that what this is all about?