Buckeye Mike

Yesterday was Christmas Day. Tiffany and I were up early as John-Michael and his family were scheduled to pick up Ben and Tanner to go their Mother's house in the morning before we hosted dinner at 2. By the time they headed out at 8:30 we had most of the food ready to pop in, with the ham and green beans already in the crock pots. As we sat for a minute, we began to talk about the things we had forgotten to pick up, including salad dressing, bottled water, and a couple of gift cards that we were going to be giving family later. A quick google search revealed that both Family Dollar and Rite Aid were open yesterday. Not that I wanted to go to the store on Christmas Day. The thought of grumpy last minute shoppers waiting in line made me cringe, especially when I realized I would be one of them. But both brands had a location in Mt. Gilead, so I decided to make the quick drive and get what we needed. I had let John-Michael take my van to his Mom's because it is a little easie

Earlier today, I posted  The Pocketwatch  as part of my continuing Christmas Tradition. And while that story is close to my heart, nothing can top my new favorite Christmas story about my awesome wife and her new heart she received 2 years ago this Christmas. It is a cool story, and A LOT has happened since, with more big things on the horizon. But I wanted to share what I wrote in 2017, 3 days after her surgery. Before you read it, please be aware of three things: First, I cannot express to you what I was feeling when she received her gift. That December, her health was going downhill. Her complexion was gray, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she was on oxygen. Everyday I woke up wondering is that was the day my heart was going to shatter. Going from that feeling to planning the rest of our lives with my very healthy wife has been amazing. Second thing: At the end of this post there is a picture of both her old and new hearts together on the operating room table. It i

Nine years ago today, I wrote a post entitled "The Pocketwatch". It is a story about my mother, who was my best friend and is the inspiration for this blog.  It has always been my favorite Christmas story, and is become an annual tradition.  And while this story about my Mom is still so close to my heart, the story of my wife's new heart on Christmas Day 2017 is now my favorite Christmas story ever. Still, my pocketwatch means more to me than anything I own.. Thanks for reading As a kid growing up, Christmas Eve was always the most special day of the year. Aside from the Santa visit, the day was filled with so much tradition and family that is was more like an event than a holiday. Everyone would gather at my grandparents house for Christmas dinner. Cars would fill the drive way, be parked on the hill, and even in the front yard. My Uncle Ronnie would read the Christmas story.  And there was always a feast, with us kids pushing everyone to finish their plates so we coul

I am going to be real open here about something. I have been struggling recently. Mostly an internal struggle, with outside influences. I will spare you the details because we don't have that kind of time. But with the blessings and the miracles my family has seen over the past few years, dealing with curve balls the way they have been coming for the last few months has made my strong and steady way of life a little....no, a lot....wobbly at times. Not complaining or asking for help. Just stating facts to set the stage. I also will confess that our God works in mysterious ways. Not to sound to much like that guy who lives in Washington, but you know it, I know it, everybody knows it. That's where a blast from the last comes in. Someone from my high school days. Back when I was a master debater (read it again) and wore my show choir tuxedo to school more often than not. Back when Brad Stefanov and I used to be best friends and run around in his Cutlass blasting 2 Live Crew t

"And it's SWUNG ON AND MISSED! And Tom Browning has pitched a perfect game! 27 outs in a row and he is being mobbed by his team mates just on the 3rd base side of the mound" I will never forget that night. September 16th, 1988. I laid in my bed, listening to the Reds game on my clock radio that I had hidden under my pillow. It was a late night, as there was a lengthy rain delay to start the game. But it was worth it. I heard history. I never forgot Marty Brennaman's call of that final swing by Tracy Woodson, and can still recite it to this day. Marty Brennaman was the voice of my childhood. I listened to every pitch of the 1990 World Series on the radio, while watching on TV. I took my small boom box in the backyard and threw a baseball through a tire that was hanging on the fence in Milford and listened to every game, every spring, summer and fall. He and Joe painted a picture, and I could see Larkin field the ball in the hole, Eric the Red climb the center field

Go back. Go back and read some of the 358 published blog posts under my name. Read about my failures and victories. Read about my inherited clumsiness or the miracle that I am married to. Learn about my Papaw and about how I am Mike the Mammoth guy.  Go read more than one post. Get in the club. All the cool kids are doing it! Are you back? Good. Please pay attention. If you truly did read them, three things should be evidently clear to you: #1.) This blog was started in 2010 as a tribute to my mother. Her influence can be seen in almost every post #2.) This blog is about me and my life. That is the story it tells. I talk about my work, my family, my friends, my experiences, anything that is on my mind. Some posts are fun while some are more thought provoking. Some are very celebratory while others are more somber. But I am never less than genuine, and try to never be negative (had a few negative posts early on, didn't like who that guy was.) 3.) In the last few years,

First, this blog is long overdue. But finding time in front of my computer is very rare these days, and most of that time is spent returning emails and writing estimates (which I should be doing now). But as I sit in my office during what feels like the first 15 minutes I have have had to do so in weeks, I took a deep breath and opened my blog for the first time in ages. I had to knock the cobwebs off just to be able to write.. We have been running at a frenetic pace for the last 2 months, with no end in sight. The days count down, though, to our November excursion to New England, with 39 to go until we leave (not including today) . It will be a great time of decompression, and a much needed time of reflection. Because while we love our "Salt Life"  getaways through and through, just a couple of months ago we were ready to jump in full time. I have an unpublished blog entitled " A Mammoth Goodbye". Alas it will never be made public, as God's plan for us chan

Welcome back people! Sorry, been awhile since I checked in, but it's been a very busy 2019 so far. And let's face it, I am a Slusher. And while I do not know all of the ends and outs of that heritage, I do know one of the glaring flaws - letting things slip your mind. My Gramm would always wish me a happy birthday - a day or two late. My Uncles keep saying we need to get together......which reminds me, I should call them because we need to get together. But I digress. Anyone who knows Tiffany and I knows we love to travel. Day trips, weekend getaways, and full blown vacations are as much a part of our life as pug dogs or our country dream home. We love to go. Anywhere. So last fall, we bought a minivan. We had long ago determined we are not RV people, so the van would get us to whatever hotel or resort we would stay in. In November, we drove it to Cape Cod for Thanksgiving and stayed in our condo there. Then we headed to Florida for New Year's and Myrtle Beach for our Ann