The Millin Four-em

Get on the Scoresheet

2011-04-03T10:40:00.000-04:00

My fellow backyard rink-builder friend Pete, who I wrote about earlier this season, has entered into a contest for custom ice rinks. Each unique view on this video is a vote for his rink. By watching it I think you will see that Pete is in it for the same reasons so many of us are: friends, fun, and family.

The Hole Is My Theory

2011-03-18T08:45:00.000-04:00

Carl gives the water temperature 2 thumbs up

Cleaning up after the season is over is a brutal task. My time and energy has been transferred to other things (or perhaps I just enjoy spending it on other things) and the mess that is my backyard sits and waits for me. Draining the liner isn't hard and there are different ways to do it. The best - and easiest - way is to sick my neighbor's dogs (and boys) on it. We spent a half hour throwing a tennis ball into the icy water and the dogs' claws poke hundreds of little holes in the liner, making for a slow, steady drain. I woke up this morning and the liner was empty.

Jimmy tests the waters

Tilly splashes while Mac looks for the tennis ball

Mason retrieves the ball and drains my liner: win, win

Carl discovers the liner is slippery when wet

Recent Goings-on

2011-02-04T21:54:00.003-05:00

Sometimes words are too much and pictures do the job just fine:

First things thirst

Tripping on Alex

Lots of traffic

No Country for Old Men

The year of snow

Danny and Brendan

Brendan and Liam scrape the ice

Remembering our roots and appreciating our chocolate

Audrey's Autumn Tones

Kevin and Alex

RJ is the man

Line Change

Hitting in the corner

Caroline and Delaney - are talking about giving ice hockey a try

Caroline and Michael Face Off

Danny gives up a goal to his sister

Moments In Time They Shared Together

2011-01-26T17:03:00.002-05:00

$1.oo to the person who can tell me where I got that quote from.

Despite all the snow this has been one of our busiest and bestest (artistic license) seasons yet. Actually, I have no problem with snow, especially when it isn't wet, heavy, or mixed with rain. In addition, Danny is old enough that he can help shovel - and does so without being asked - when I am not around. I used to be particular about how my ice was cleaned but not any more. Danny knows the rules: before you use it you shovel it; after you use it you clean it. Since my last post there has been much activity on the Four-em, including:

Danny and Michael played in these outfits in temps that were in the teens. Beats a couch and a PS3 anyday, in my book.

Caroline, Delaney, Michael and Danny play at twilight. The girls hold their own pretty well against the competitive boys

Thomas, Nick (first timer!), and Danny discover how important it is to keep the last puck available on the ice. Brendan (out of sight behind the fence) scaled down and up the hill to retrieve it.

The 5th Day of Rinkmas

2010-12-30T18:13:00.000-05:00

Temperatures were in the 40's today, but the slab was frozen solid and withstood the sun and temperatures pretty well. Danny and Michael went out on their boots after dark and played for a while - making it the 5th day in a row that the rink has been used. Having it up and ready for Christmas break has been a huge blessing.

Forecasts call for 50 degree temps and raining. I call periods like that, "nature's reset button."

2010-12-29T20:51:00.000-05:00

I get more satisfaction from the rink when other people are having a good time on it than when I skate on it. I like maintaining it (but hate shoveling it) and love it when it's being used. Debbie's brother and family came over today when I was at work and went out on the ice for a while.

My nieces Becca and Emma with Emma's friend Nicole

Emma helped clean up the rink for me in my absence. :) Emma has the rink bug. She is welcome here anytime.

"Uncle Awesome" throwing a snowball at his sister who is taking the picture

Perhaps the best expression ever caught on film here at the Four-em (click on picture to enlarge). Thank you Boodles.

The busier the better I say.

Flurry of Activity

2010-12-28T22:03:00.003-05:00

Since Christmas, the rink has been in regular use. Danny and his friend Michael were on it most of the day today. Michael has been his buddy since kindergarten and he does not play organized hockey...

The cool thing is that Michael got skates and a helmet for Christmas. He asked his mother for these things so that he could skate on our rink instead of just playing boot hockey...

...the other thing I like about this is that Danny still likes to play with his friends as opposed to just play hockey. The two boys were playing all day: skating in slow motion (it's a riot to watch), raising their sticks in triumph, pretending to be injured, and trying trick plays, and just played...

Notice how dark it has gotten since the first picture. At one point in the day they clumped into the kitchen in their skate guards and I asked them if they came in to play on the PS3. They said, "No, we need a snack" and they went back outside...

...and the sun set on another day on the Millin Four-em.

Blades in a Blizzard

2010-12-27T15:58:00.000-05:00

Despite the gusting winds, falling branches, and driving snow the rink was in full operation today. The cousins played some hockey with Danny for a bit.

Elora is now a hockey player.

Brendan is Danny's neighbor, friend, and teammate.

The best mess there is.

Love the shots from above.

Relative Holiday

2010-12-26T19:24:00.000-05:00

Busy times here on the Four-em ice. The more use the ice gets the better I feel.

December 25th
Danny and I had a Christmas morning skate; our 4th one in as many years, which is pretty cool. After opening presents, which included matching hockey jerseys, we laced them up and skated for an hour or so.

December 26thDebbie's brother and family are up from Tennesee for the holidays and are staying with us. We also swapped Caroline for other cousins Emma and Ellie and a Christmas snow storm made for the perfect setting for an evening skate for all.

Emma is the only one who can keep up with Danny on skates and she jammed to KISS 108 on the radio while zipping around the ice. Emma "wishes she could live here" because we have ice in our backyard.

Elora took to our ice for the first time. She has taken lessons and is a very good skater. Elora also helped me shovel the rink and made a snow angel - the first one ever made on Four-em ice by the way.

Ellie and I skated figure 8's together and had a great time in the snow. Ellie is an excellent skater!

Four-em Tour

2010-12-19T11:45:00.000-05:00

Hello, my name is Scott and this is my rink.

On December 18th my ice was clear and smooth. We call it 'virgin ice' here in backyard-rinkville. In 5 years of making my own ice, this marks the earliest that I have had skateable ice.

Over the years I have found lots of natural elements embedded in my ice, including: sand, tree bark, bark mulch, leaves, 'helicopter' seed pods, and bits of squirrel nests. This year I found a bird's wing. Evidence suggests that it was a Blackhawk, playing the 'off-wing.'

I take what Mother Nature gives me and work hard to keep it smooth and usable.

Hope to see you on my ice sometime soon. Thanks for stopping by.

2010/11 Backyard Rink Season....Oh, it's on.

2010-12-13T22:21:00.001-05:00

On a spur of the moment I decided to flood tonight. The forecast calls for below freezing temps for the next 10 days, with little to no chance of precipitation. If this works out it will be my earliest skate ever. Some photos with accompanying rambling descriptions for you:

I have no idea who this guy is but he is my new best friend. For years the leaves that fell in the field across the street would spend the entire winter blowing across the field and up and into my yard; and kill my rink surface. But THIS GUY came out of no-where and spent an entire day sucking up leaves with his tractor. Thank you tractor guy.

Danny and his buddy Michael helped check the yard for loose twigs and sharp, pointy rocks. They also helped me secure the liner once it was unfurled.

I still love unfolding it and getting it ready - it's better than Christmas.

Fill'er up.

Away Games

2010-12-12T16:03:00.002-05:00

We are on the cusp of year #5 of the backyard rink for me (if I were really aggressive last week we would be in year #5). A lot has happened to me and to the rink in that time and I'd like to think there has been a steady growth and development in all things that are rink related here at the Four-em. Unfortunately that list also includes band-aids, water bills, and swearing at the wind and all that it deposits in my ice. One thing that has also grown is my network. I've made lots of friends and acquaintances who have backyard rinks and it continues to surprise me how the act of making ice in your backyard can connect you with people and make your world a smaller and better place.

Last January, the Four-Millins attended a fundraiser for the Jack Falla Memorial Fund at Boston University, and we met a few friends and family members of Jack. We also met some folks who had never met the man but who shared his passion for hockey and skating outdoors, including Pete and his family. Pete lives in MA and he too is a member of the Yahoo Backyard-rink group. He has a couple of boys, one of whom is Danny's age, and after exchanging pleasantries we talked a little bit about our respective rinks. The description he gave me of his rink was enough to make any rink builder jealous - more on that in a bit. When the evening was over we wished each other well and I had not communicated with him since; until last weekend.

Danny's Pee Wee team (shown here in full travel dress) was about to participate in a weekend tournament in Natick, MA. In a pleasant coincidence, Natick happened to be Jack Falla's hometown. The day before Danny's first tournament game I received an email, out of the blue, from Pete. His son Matt's team was also playing in the tournament, and as fate would have it, our boys would be playing each other. He also invited us over to his house to skate on his rink since he lives just a few towns over from Natick. "Skate on his rink?" you ask. "The first week of December...how is that possible?" you further inquire.

Pete has a rink which sits on a cement slab that contains three miles worth of piping filled with glycol and is powered by a chiller. The rink was installed by former NHL player Dave Gagner who owns a company called Custom Ice Rinks, headquartered in Ontario, Canada. Because his rink, nestled nicely on the edge of the woods, is frozen artificially (set at an enviable 18 degrees), Pete's family skates over 100 days every year and into temperatures as high as 50 degrees. His kids have even engaged in a backyard hockey game of 'shirts vs. skins.'

Any thoughts I had of "well that's not 'real' backyard rink building" vanished when we set our skates to the ice. Who cares how your ice is frozen, so long as it's frozen. Pete's ice surface is only an inch thick and he drilled periodic holes along his frame, just above the ice surface, so that excess rain water drains out the sides. It's high cost (pricing is listed on the Custom Ice Rinks link) but it comes with low maintenance and high reward. I am truly jealous: They skate on demand.

That Saturday we skated for an hour - no games, just light skating and passing - and then had a great lunch with Pete, Karen, Matt, and Jack. And that is why I love hockey so much. It can be the ultimate equalizer, providing a frozen common ground. Strangers welcomed us into their home and made us feel like we were long-time friends. Danny and I left the outdoor rink for the indoor rink to play games 2 and 3 of the tournament and his team went 2-0-1; good enough to make it to the tournament finals the next day against, you guessed it: Matt's team.

The CHA Pee Wee 1's lost that game 1-0 and the sting for the players was pretty significant. However, thanks to our backyard rink connections Danny and I took away something else from that weekend; something that will last long after the sting of the loss has faded away for Danny. We walked out of the William Chase Arena in Natick with good memories and new friends.

This Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words (1,106 to be exact)

2010-09-21T21:17:00.004-04:00

Towards the end of the season last year, a parent on Danny’s Pee Wee team (ages 11 and 12) sent me this photo of Danny. It was taken during a game at our home rink and the first thing I noticed was how clear the picture was – most of the photos I have taken in a hockey rink are shadowy and out of focus. Hockey rinks do not lend themselves to good photographs due to their poor lighting, marked up glass, protective netting, and cave-like confines. It might also just be that I am a lousy photographer. However, after noticing the clarity of this action shot I began to notice some other things about the picture – things that may not be so obvious or significant to anyone else but that are, I think, part of a greater story and that have significant meaning to me:

The Skate Laces
From learn to skate clinic on up through his years as a Squirt (ages 9 and 10), I always tied Danny’s skates for him. In fact, as a coach I probably tied 4 or 5 players’ laces at every practice or game. I always enjoyed this act. It’s an intimate moment, when you stoop down, eye to eye with the player with their skate wedged between your knees. You have their undivided attention and it’s a chance to talk to them one-on-one about all things hockey or about the bologna sandwich they had for lunch. But at the beginning of last season Danny’s new coach instituted a ‘tie your own laces’ policy – and rightfully so; you’ve got to cut the cord (or the lace as it were) at some point.

But Danny has a tendency to assume he can’t do something before he even tries it (insert picture of Debbie here with a caption saying, “I wonder where he gets that from?”). Danny stressed about tying his own skates as the first week of practice approached, and he practiced in the living room while watching television and was frustrated at how long the laces were and how loose they were after he tied them. Of course he figured it out. This picture was taken seven months later and he ties his own skates without a second thought. Look at his right skate’s laces, pulled tight and looped, just barely skimming the surface of the ice (click on image to enlarge). Looks like Danny and tying his own laces are a good fit to me.

This picture makes me think about how I miss tying little Danny’s skates, but also how I relish his independence and growth.

The Tape Job
Now here’s another thing he doesn’t need me for. Taping the blade of a hockey stick is an art form, you know. You don’t just casually wrap up the blade, as if it were merely a package you were sending in the mail to your sister in R.I. A tape job on a hockey stick requires concentration, care, and precision; so much so that I wrap the blade and stick my tongue out of my mouth at the same time – most hockey players do the same. Watch them, you’ll see.

People get creative with their tape jobs now-a-days: Irish kids use orange, green and white tape; I’ve made red and white candy cane stripes for him at Christmas time and have embedded his jersey number into the front and back of the blade with multi colored tape. The picture above happened to capture the first time that Danny peeled off my tape job in the locker room and taped his own blade, complete with Chelmsford maroon and black colors in his own unique design. Danny has always been so proud of his team and of his town. It’s part of who he is and what he will become.

I’m still the one who primarily tapes his stick, only because I like to do it and because the coach hasn’t made a rule saying I can’t. But Danny is capable and the moment he first did it is captured on film…or whatever sorcery is used to make digital photos.

The Nameplate
When I was a kid I never had a shirt with my last name plastered across the back, in any sport (but I played at a time when it was acceptable for my little league baseball team to be called The Apaches). Having your name on the back is a cool thing, and I think all kids should have a nameplate – no matter what activity or sport they play (nameplates for the chess club and swim team might just catch on). Each kid deserves to be recognized – whether they fail or succeed – for trying and for doing the best that they can do. When I hear a parent yell out Danny’s name after he makes a play, I love it. When he coughs up the puck on a weak backhand pass I cringe and wonder what he was thinking. Either way, that’s my son…and the nameplate in this picture proves it.

The Follow-through
The final thing I noticed about this picture is Danny’s follow-through on his shot. All the weight of his body has been transferred through his stick and on to his front foot, and his head is looking up at the net – that’s textbook form and what we have spent years telling he and his teammates to do in practice. Danny usually patrols the right point position for his team and as a defenseman he is a natural. He sees the ice better from there and makes good decisions in both zones, but one of the things he needs to improve and work on is his shot.

Sure, getting a good hard shot off requires strength that his wiry body may not yet have, but it also requires nearly flawless technique and total commitment by the player– you can’t second guess yourself or suffer from lack of confidence as you wind up or set the wrists to snap one off. Like all things, if you think only about failing you most likely will. But here, in this photo, he committed his body and his mind to doing it right.

The 2010/2011 youth hockey season is underway. Danny is another year older and his practice and game times are getting later; the emphasis on having fun is still very much there but it's shifting to pressure to play better, and it shifts more that way each year. Enjoy your mite or your squirt aged hockey player, Boy Scout, Girl Scout, or trombone player. Let them do what they love to do and cherish all the innocence that comes with the age...and take lots of pictures.

Reality Blows...chunks

2010-08-26T15:36:00.003-04:00

I am aware that my last post said no more non-rink related posts on this site...but I make - and break - my own rules.

When Deb and I decided to move to Chelmsford ten years ago, we drove around town to get a lay of the land. I remember driving by the high school athletic field complex, seeing it full of kids and saying to Debbie, "One day, Caroline and Danny will be out there." In my mind, I could picture our four and two year old, running around in their uniforms as teenagers. They'd be a part of the community and a part of the school. They would be surrounded by their friends and they'd be happy. It was an idyllic image. I tend to have these romantic notions about the future, and most definitely the past. It's like I have a filter that keeps pesky reality from clouding my view. I can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.

It's ten years later and reality hit, and it hit hard. Caroline is entering her freshman year of high school and if you haven't seen her lately imagine a pretty blond woman. Her passion is field hockey and today was the first day of tryouts. Gone are the days of "everybody makes the team and everybody wins." I knew that going into it, but when I pulled up to the high school track to drop her off for the first of two tryout sessions (two more tomorrow and more on Saturday), I couldn't believe how many girls were standing there...trying to take a roster spot away from my Caroline.

I couldn't help myself and, much to Caroline's horror I am sure, I stayed in the parking lot and watched them. The coach (who is this woman and boy does she intimidate me) began by having the girls warm up. (awe, look at all these girls we've known for so long; they're so grown up now). Coach had them break into groups (oh yeah! She's with someone she knows!) and they began running....and running...and running (What did that mom over there just say - anybody who finishes over 8 minutes automatically gets cut?...C'mon, Caroline run past your friend - she'll still like you).

Then it started: They began dropping like flies. One girl passed out (she finished the 2.5 hour practice anyway) and several stopped to visit the metal trash barrel to spew forth their stomach contents which, judging by the colors, included various flavors of Gatorade. Friends rubbed friends backs, others shouted encouragement to those still running. They were united - against adversity or the coach, I couldn't tell. But the thought of Caroline watching all of that, never mind going through all that, was too much. Yes, I coddle her. But I also know that she is strong and there was nothing I could do for her; so I left. This reality was too much for me.

When I returned at the end of the session they were all running (still) around the very field that I drove by with Debbie ten years ago. Her shirt was soaked with sweat, her cheeks were bright red, and the expression on her face was pained...but she was still running. That image was quite the contrast from the one I had in my head ten years ago.

Moral of the story: dreams are often tempered by reality, but they can still come true.

My Fresh Sheet

2010-06-18T20:13:00.000-04:00

In hockey, there is no blurring of lines. If you cross one when you shouldn't, the whistle is blown. The same should hold true in blogging.

When Deb and I were young, I used to write stuff all the time - in a notebook that she gave me for such things. It was pretty amateurish, and I never really focused my attention on writing or pushed myself to do more of it...or get better at it. When I began writing about my backyard rink experiences in 2006, I remembered how much I love to write - and how much I missed it.

As time went by I began to write about things beyond backyard rinkdom - I wrote about my kids, people who died on me, stuff that happened to me as a boy, and on and on. Then I started writing some fictitious short stories based on reality (?). While I am glad I wrote them (and continue to write more), I realized they do not truly belong on my Four-em site: What happens when somebody clicks on The Millin Four-em to see how I managed to overcome 3 days of above freezing temperatures, and they get a story about a guy who delivered papers for a living? Blurring the lines isn't cool. It's messy. It's worthy of a whistle.

So, I started another site titled, "My Fresh Sheet". While the title is a hockey term - it is also a "cross-over" - a literary term, and a broad one at that. I can put whatever I want on that sheet in good comfort, knowing I am not off-sides but well within the field of play.

I even pulled some of my non-rink related posts over to the site, and just posted a story I started writing last summer but only finished this Spring. Some things with me take time.

From now on the Four-em posts will be rink related, and My Fresh Sheet will be those of a different "type."

A Season in Review

2010-03-04T17:15:00.008-05:00

This year's rink use sort of fizzled out at the end. There were no dramatic last skates by me or anyone else in the family, or realization that the rink's time was up; something I try to be cognizant of once February rolls around. This was probably the earliest the rink was rendered unusable, but it was our most successful year of skating by far, yielding nearly 2 months of good skating and low maintenance.

Putting some English on it
I do know that the ice, in the international spirit of the Olympics, had some "shuffler arounders" from England on it on February 13th, just as the days started becoming longer and the sun began shining stronger. Here are Caroline, Zoe, and Victoria, perhaps the very last ones to slide around on the 2009/2010 Millin Four-em ice sheet.

Season Recap
Winter is a busy time for us, both on and off our ice but this year's rink related activities started off with a bit of a surprise. I received a call from an NHL.com writer and was interviewed in a feature story on backyard rinks for the Winter Classic at Fenway. From there, things took off and the ice was used heavily, by 'regulars' who can lace their own skates and by others putting them on for the first time. We were able to skate on Christmas Day and New Year's Eve, and Danny and his friends scattered more tennis balls and hockey pucks around the yard than I care to imagine. Caroline also made good use of the ice and had friends over to slide around in their boots after school and skated to music on the weekends.

Off Ice Activities
Danny's 45 game youth hockey schedule has been tremendously successful and, most importantly, fun for all of us. The Pee Wee 2's won their District and compete this weekend in Marlboro, MA at the State Tournament. Danny's on ice decisions, puck moving ability, and confidence as defenseman make me proud, and Debbie is happy that he has survived his first year with checking (and I am surprised at how much he loves to hit).

I also got up the nerve to attend a fundraiser for the Jack Falla Fund, held at the BU School of Communications, and was really glad I did. I met some folks that, up until that point, I only knew by email and blogging, and the four Millins wound up having a great night. The list of people I meet because of my rink is expanding by the year and that's a good thing.

The End is Here
After a storm blew through here last week, packed with 60 mph wind gusts, it unceremoniously (for you , Derek Sanderson) deposited a couple of inches of rain and lots of debris into what's left of the rink - the storm also blew our basketball hoop off it's base which fell perfectly between our two vehicles. Today I set up the siphon hose and began the draining process, and surveyed the wreckage that lay in and around the rink. It was a giant mess, but it was also a great season.

Center Ice

2010-02-09T00:13:00.000-05:00

Danny's Pee Wee 2 team had a tournament at the Berkshire School in Sheffield, MA this weekend. The Berkshire School is a private boarding school for those in different tax bracket than you or I. Sheffield is a small town way out in the southwestern corner of the state, and the school is tucked into the base of the Berkshire Mountains. It's a beautiful setting, and the newly built Jackman L. Stewart athletic center is, simply put, magnificent.

Heading into the weekend, Danny's Pee Wee 2 team was coming off a district championship and their record reflects their level of play (unbeaten over a two month stretch). The team went 2-0-1 in their three tournament games to advance to the semi-finals on Sunday morning. It seemed as if they were on their way to the finals when they gave up a 2-1 lead with just over a minute remaining. After a scoreless overtime, the game was to be settled by a best-of-five shootout.

The electricity in the air was beyond anything I've experienced at a youth hockey game - we were 55 strong in the stands and the other team wasn't too far behind. After the first 4 shooters, the score was tied at 1 shootout goal each. I was fiddling with my camera and simultaneously giving play-by-play to Deb on the cell phone when I heard someone say, "Look who it is!"...I looked up as Danny hopped out onto the ice. I had trouble holding the camera steady.

After the referee said a few words he left Danny standing at center ice, alone. The other team sat perched on one knee on the ice in front of him and when the referee blew the whistle the crowd went from wildly electric to stone silent. It was up to Danny.

Moments like this happen so fast. I was trying to explain it all to Deb on the phone (who dropped to her knees when I told her it was Danny), was responding to parents who were giving me the 'holy crap!' look, and trying to focus my camera and my brain to preserve the moment. Danny took off, collected the puck smartly, and went in at full speed toward the goaltender, slapping the puck side to side with his stick...

and was turned aside on his backhand attempt.

I felt so bad for Danny. His body language, which I know so well, screamed anger, frustration, and sorrow. He wanted so badly to be the hero - and I wanted it for him too. The other team went on to score the winning goal on their next shooter.

Danny doesn't know it yet but he'll miss on other attempts, and he'll score on other ones too. I also know that he showed no fear, left nothing in the tank, and played his heart out for his coaches and his team. At that moment I was never more proud of him.

Back in Business

2010-01-31T21:17:00.001-05:00

A very busy hockey schedule for Danny has left little time for skating. But we found a few hours this weekend. Thomas slept over Friday night and the boys had a little night/day double header action.

The temperatures were in the single digits Friday night but they lasted an hour. Notice they are wearing matching hockey jerseys AND pants. They put serious thought into these things.

Saturday morning was slightly warmer and they were out on the rinkfor over an hour.

Back to Work

2010-01-19T21:28:00.000-05:00

In what has been a remarkably low maintenance season so far, the first real work came in the form of shoveling. A storm dumped 5 inches of rain/sleet/snow on us. However, having a solid slab of ice really helped in that I had minimal seepage of water up into the snow as it pressed down on said slab. I had to let the snow sit all day and shoveled around midnight on Monday, after my game (Rapid Finishing won 3-2, thanks for asking).

Getting the snow off it helped the surface freeze again as snow is an insulator and the slushy top of my ice would have remained slushy. Getting the snow off helped the cold air of the night turn it back into ice. Today was a day of constant flurries so more shoveling was in order tonight. As you can see in the pictures, she looks lovely.

I also replaced the bulbs on my lights. I got 4 years out of the old bulbs and the difference with the new ones is very noticeable. When they are on it seems like noontime.

Genesis

2010-01-06T23:59:00.003-05:00

You have to start somewhere; and in the case of young Aiden it was on my rink.

On Tuesday night there was a knock on our door and it was my neighbor, Ryan. He lives up the street from us and we always wave and say hello to each other when driving by our respective houses, and we have talked a few times, but I don't know him as well as our immediate neighbors. Ryan wanted to know if he could come down with his son Aiden the next night and skate on our rink. YES!

So, they did. Aiden took to the ice tonight and did great. What made it most meaningful is that this was Aiden's first time in ice skates. Instant memories for Ryan and Aiden and instant gratification for me.

I was very happy Ryan took it upon himself to knock on my door. I'm a

lousy inviter - always have been. Not because I don't want folks here but because I fear the unknown too much. However, I am seriously considering posting an open skate invitation on the various communication mediums I subscribe to for this Saturday. I'd invite everyone - the people I know and the people I "kinda' know".

Would you come?

Late Night Perspective

2010-01-05T01:29:00.000-05:00

Got home from our 10:00pm game (Team Rapid Finishing won, 5-2 - thanks for asking) after midnight and decided to give the Four-em a resurfacing.

Night Maneuvers
I've written about this before but I really love coming home late at night and being out on the rink by myself. Instead of skating I threw on the ipod, connected the hose, grabbed a BL (or two), and used the MIM (Millin Ice Machine) to lay down a fresh sheet. It was quiet and cold, and I was alone with my music and thoughts while I 'worked' on the rink. Sometimes the ice makes popping sounds - you can feel it in your toes - as the hot water spreads out evenly over the frozen surface and fills in the scratches and imperfections left behind by the skaters. There is something satisfying about the act of wiping away the old and setting up the new. If it were only that easy in other endeavors.

Different Perspectives

In a surprising move, I downloaded a few Bon Jovi songs, including "Who Says You Can't Go Home" and "We Weren't Born To Follow". I found them good 'set up' songs whilst connecting various hoses and such. While resurfacing I resorted to music a little more philosophical (surprise). I also took some pictures of the rink after resurfacing . I like to walk around it while the water is freezing and look at it from places I don't normally see it from. Yes, it sounds pathetic (and perhaps may be), but there is something to be said about looking at things differently now and then.

A Resolute New Years

2009-12-31T15:44:00.002-05:00

My Fifteen Minutes
I was lucky enough to be included in a story written by NHL.com columnist, Rocky Bonanno called, Everlasting Memories in the Great Outdoors. I was actually one of two backyard rink builders to be profiled, the other being Joe Proulx of New Hampshire. After reading the story in its entirety a few things jumped out at me.

Moving Down on the Depth Chart

First and foremost - I'm 41. It looks so old when you see it in print, especially when juxtaposed with someone who is 29. However, since the article was published Joe and I have gone back and forth about things beyond the rink, including our experiences with kids and parenting. While Joe has a 3 year old son, Caroline and Danny are now very independent and rely on us only for things like rides to a friend's house and funding for various electronics...but they still consent to the occasional snuggle. The game clock is always ticking away, but I really love each stage they kids have been in, and are in.

The Player Named Later
The other thing that I noticed about myself (it's all about me, right?) is that in the article I come across as the 'wanna-be' hockey player who never was. It's true - I always did want to play organized hockey as a kid; and I suppose playing your first organized game at age 30 is better than say, age 41. But it got me to thinking about the question, "What if I had played youth hockey?"...which led to other questions: Would I have burned out and been turned off by the hockey's 'dark side?' Would youth hockey have made me a more polished and skilled player than I am today? How would playing have affected my outlook on Danny's youth hockey experience today?

Fun and Games?

The essence of the article is how hockey, when played outside, is fun and free-form, void of the structure found in rinks. In it, I sound as if I am anti-game and anti-competition. Come watch me play and you'll see I hate to lose and I give everything I have. But when I am on the ice at Danny's practices or at his games I have a 'I'm just happy to be here' mentality. I feel like I'm in the minority sometimes and wonder why we parents yell at our skaters - even if they can't hear us out on the ice. I'm not saying we should sit there and be quite, but do we stand over our kids while they are doing their math homework and yell, "CARRY THE 1 AND BORROW FROM THE 8! IT'S SO OBVIOUS!" And, if anyone followed me around on a daily basis and narrated all my mistakes I'd get tired of it ("YOU DIDN'T SEPARATE THE DARKS FROM THE WHITES!").

The Glass is Half-Full
What I do know is: I see all youth hockey players as doing the best that they can do, with room for improvement and learning. That's what I love about the game of hockey - you never know it all or can do it all (if you can and do then you are getting paid to play). I also know that I am glad I play the game now, and I hope that Danny continues to love the game; especially when he is an old 41 like me.

Happy New Year.

- Scott

A Christmas Special

2009-12-25T20:11:00.001-05:00

After opening presents and drinking several cups of coffee, Danny and I skated for an hour. It was a really fun skate, just a lot of passing and 2 on 0's. The ice surface had melted from a warm Christmas Eve day but refroze overnight, making the top smooth and slick - sometimes mother nature helps us out.

'Tis the season for some Winter Classic garb. Unfortunately Danny's team has a game at 3:00 on New Years Day. That boggles my mind given that it's a holiday and a hockey event we will most likely only see once in our lifetime. We are DVRing the game and hope we don't hear the real time result before watching it.

Solstice

2009-12-21T17:03:00.000-05:00

Today is the shortest day of the year, Winter Solstice. With just over 9 hours of sunlight, the days will slowly become longer and the extra sunlight will only cause a rinkbuilder like myself more trouble. However, I take it a day at a time and know that an average of an extra minute of sunlight for each week going forward still leaves us plenty of time for more skating.

Danny had the Usual Suspects over after school. Every year I take a photo of Danny, Thomas, Mitch, and Chris in on the rink. Here they are, as 6th graders.

Red Sky At Night, Skater's Delight

2009-12-20T19:42:00.000-05:00

Danny and his friend, Liam christened the ice for the 2009/2010 season and did so by skating for over 2 hours in the bitter cold. While temps were in the mid-20's, the wind was unrelenting, making it feel much colder.

As the boys got off the ice the sun was setting, and it turned the sky into fantastic colors.

Rink Status: 7:30pm
A storm dumped 6 inches of snow on the rink today and thankfully the ice appears to have been frozen solid from the last 3 days of bitter cold. I used the rubber squeegee to scrape the ice chips and snow left behind by the boys and then laced up my own skates for a bit. I shot a few pucks (and lost a few over the netting) and stickhandled for a while - and it felt good to be back on the Four-em again. I then resurfaced using the hot-water line and my homemade Zamboni, and the ice is clear and smooth.

Opening Night

2009-12-15T22:42:00.000-05:00

Start
At 11:00 I rolled out the liner and took it out of its box. Laying it out did not take very long and went quite well for it being just me.

To
Rolling out the white carpet.

Finish
It is almost 11:00pm and the 2009/2010 Millin Four-em is nearly full. Temperatures are not expected to go above freezing over the next 4-5 days, beginning tonight. The season is off to a promising start.

A 2009/2010 Winter Classic

2009-12-10T22:15:00.000-05:00

A storm blew through here on Tuesday night and left my frame filled with 8 inches of snow and slush. I shoveled most of it as the snow changed over to sleet, and took care of the rest early Thursday morning, letting the mid-day sun melt the remnants.

There were some off season changes and improvements to the surrounding venue of the Millin Four-em. Note the fresh coat of stain on the fence and wall.

At the 'low board end' I cut a hockey net-sized opening so that when the kids play a game, the net can sit on the ice and not take up space on the main playing surface. I declared war on an overgrown Iris plant to fit it in, and I am pleased with how it looks. I hope it works - that's the end that sees a lot of sun and has given me the most maintenance problems.

Now I just gotta get me a liner.

A Tale of Two Joes

2009-11-04T21:20:00.019-05:00

Joe was sitting in someone else’s chair in someone else’s room. The window in front of him let in a soft yellow beam of sunlight and the rectangular heater that sat alongside the wall pumped out a steady current of warm air. Joe’s chair faced the window and next to him sat an empty chair; both angled as if someone had deliberately arranged them so that the sitter was forced to dwell on the events going on outside of the window rather than inside the room. Behind Joe were two beds, on opposite walls with matching nightstands.

Joe was stuck in this familiar strange place again. He was troubled, and he wrung his hands together as if he were trying to wash away whatever it was that troubled him. Joe looked out the window and stared at the trees blowing in the wind. The window pane was thick and muffled all sound, and he liked the way the trees swung silently back and forth. Their green leaves danced and turned inside out with each gust, revealing a slightly different and duller shade on their undersides. All the while, the trees’ sturdy trunks and full branches alternated leaning left and right at a slow, rhythmic pace. Without realizing it, their dance brought him peace of mind and helped to ease his pain.

He and Ethel finished digging just before twilight. They heaved the last bucket-full of dirt up with an old rope, and as he dumped its contents into the wooden wheelbarrow, he imagined what their house would look like when it was all finished. The maple trees loomed large around him and they were counting on them to grow even larger to cover their house with shade from the summer sun. He lifted and turned the wheelbarrow, and huffed it down to the bottom of their property line and dumped its contents. Ethel smiled, tightened the handkerchief that covered her hair, and wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. She had faith in him, and together they would build their house.

Joe tired of looking at the trees through the window and he felt the urge to move. His mind told him it was time to go home and to sit in his own chair, so he pushed himself up and went to find a way out. He pushed open the door to his room and glanced around cautiously, peering down the long hallway. Nobody seemed to take notice of him and all the faces meant nothing to him. He didn’t know where he was but he knew where he wanted to be – home. The feeling was instinctual not reasoned. As he took his first step into the hallway, Joe noticed the thin slippers that covered his feet and wondered how they got there.

Photo courtesy of Sears Archives
It was 1939 and they ordered their house from a Sears and Roebuck mail order catalogue. He and Ethel chose The Milford Model, item # 3385, as shown on page 27, and it cost them $1,671. They liked the lines and layout and agreed with the description under the picture that read, “A home like the Milford is a credit to you, your family, and every neighborhood.” When the lumber arrived by train it was pre-cut and fitted and needed only to be assembled by a craftsman. So, together he and Ethel finished building their house.

Joe made it down the hallway and pushed the door open that led to a stairwell, which he hoped led to home. As the door slipped open a loud bell sounded. The noise startled him so much that, going against his own desires, he stepped back inside the hallway. They came running in their white uniforms and grabbed him by his hand and led him further away from the door. Then they made false promises and played tricks with his head. They seemed intent on confusing him into submission: You have guests coming and they’ll want you to be here when they visit. We don’t have a car for you to leave in right now. Don’t worry, your tomato plants are being taken care of. Joe’s eyes were a cloudy blue and they betrayed the confusion that lay behind them. On his wrist was a silver and gold Timex watch with a flex-band. As they guided him back to his room and sat him down in front of the window again, he glanced at his watch and wondered if it was keeping proper time, and feared that perhaps it had slowed down a minute or two. I’d better fix it, he thought.

Photo Courtesy of Decor Medley
He worked with his hands and his mind, depending equally on each to get the job done. He was a clockmaker and he worked out back in his shop with his tools while Ethel worked out front in the store with their customers. He made clocks of all kinds, crafting their cases out of pine, maple, and oak. The sawdust coated his workshop floor and was always in his hair and in the wrinkles and creases of his skin. He assembled the clocks’ gears, chains, weights, and pendulums, and perfected their timing with fussy precision. He enjoyed making mantle clocks and wall clocks, but his specialty - and true passion - was the long case, or Grandfather clock.

Joe sat slumped at a round table and in a room with lots of other round tables. There were six chairs circling his and he ate his supper with two other men he didn’t know, one of whom was sound asleep with his head hanging over his plate. A television could be heard blaring from the next room and it almost covered up the sound of the clinking silverware. Eating was merely an exercise. Joe swirled his spoon around in his mashed potatoes and creamed corn, and felt nothing.

Photo courtesy of Laurel Leaf Farm
His garden was green and lush. Squash and zucchini burst from the vine and cucumbers grew as much as 2 inches in a single day in the humid days of summer. The tomatoes were plump and red and he loved to eat them like an apple, letting the juice run down his arm. Ethel picked the lettuce daily and pickled the beets, beans, and peppers, and his stalks of corn were always knee high by the 4th of July and a proud 7 feet tall by the end of August. The only thing he loved more than growing his corn was eating it, savoring the butter and salt mixture, and wearing the juicy spray of the yellow and white kernels on his clothes and chin. Ethel cooked the freshly picked ears in her large, black and white speckled Graniteware bucket over the outdoor fire pit and that, he was convinced, is what made it taste so good.

Joe was frequently visited by strangers and they sat alongside him in his room, taking their place in the empty chair next to his. They talked about the weather, told him about their day, and made small-talk between long pauses of silence. When Joe felt like talking he would nod his head and state empty questions like, is that right and how about that. One stranger came more than most and Joe liked her and enjoyed her company. She was the one who was most like him and she seemed to understand him, even though he didn’t understand himself. She made things better and more familiar than they seemed to be when she wasn’t there – and that made him happy.

He and Ethel felt lucky to have such fine girls. There was a hammock that stretched between two trees in the backyard, and that was his favorite place to sit with them and share a bowl of vanilla ice cream after dinner; just he and his two chums with a bowl and three spoons, cuddled up together and rocking back and forth slowly as the sun set on their day.

Joe had no sense of time. Each day it ticked away and he was unaware of its passing and of his place within it. Each day was new and the same, and yet each day was unfamiliar – he was in an undeserved purgatory. Joe was like an aged Grandfather clock whose uniquely crafted frame was worn and seasoned to a natural antique perfection, but whose internal workings misfired and were unable to measure and keep time with any accuracy. Joe’s memory was caught in a faulty loop of confusion. He was betrayed by the very mind that served him so well for nearly 80 years.

Each night, after supper was finished and the dishes and homework were done, they sat in the den of the house they built. Their two chairs were side by side and angled towards each other, purposely arranged so that the focus was the center of the room and everything that happened in and around it. They sat together and talked about the memories they made and experiences they shared. They did this for over 40 years, and after Ethel died he still sat there alone – and he relived those memories, relied on them, and cherished them. His brain replayed all that his senses had captured over the course of their life together:

The smell of the turkey roasting in the oven on thanksgiving - the crackle of the fire from behind the iron curtain covering the brick fireplace - the smell of Ivory soap in the bathroom – the creak of the black leather recliner, followed by the shuffling of newspapers – the feel of the soft green carpet on his stocking feet after a long day – the girls’ tiny footprints preserved in the concrete base of the flagpole – the taste of the pears picked from their tree – the sound of the coo-coo clock’s call at each passing hour.

He had a good life and he was grateful for the memories he had, and took comfort in knowing that he would always have them.

Take the 2nd Write

2009-10-15T11:40:00.045-04:00

All of these stories take place in the 1970's. I still live there sometimes.

DELIVERANCE
The old man’s name was Eldon Bradford and he drove a 1970 Chevy Vega. He used his little red car to deliver newspapers, and the inside of his car was a lot like the outside of its driver - messy and disheveled. Bundles of newspapers were always piled high on the seats – front and back – and Eldon never had any passengers as there simply wasn’t any room for them. Even if there were, he lived alone and Eldon was very much a loner.

Eldon’s glasses were both thick in the frame and in the lens. His usual manner of dress consisted of blue work pants and long-sleeved, button-down shirts. Eldon’s shoes were black work shoes and were well worn on the sole from shuffling though life. Eldon’s hair, once black as young man, had turned gray and there was more scalp showing than hair available to cover it. He began losing his hair at the center of his skull at the age of twenty-four and each morning when he awoke and lifted his head off his flattened pillow he left a few more strands behind. By the age of sixty-one his hair was no more than an afterthought and a brush or comb was unnecessary. He merely used his hands to push the long, wispy wings from the side of his head up-and-over his naked crown. Eldon’s hairstyle was a “push-over”, as was Eldon the man.

Photo courtesy of Matt Wardman

He took his job as newspaper delivery man very seriously. For forty-seven years he delivered papers throughout the town, starting as a fourteen year old delivery boy for the local newspaper, The Minuteman Post. The Post was a daily newspaper that covered the events and happenings of three neighboring towns and whose name originated after a once known but long forgotten figure in American history: the Town Crier.

The role of the Town Crier originated in Greek and Roman times but their practices transcended time and rule, and the Anglican name was adopted by the English in the 11th century. Town Criers spread news to the masses and they spoke directly for the king. As Britain colonized the world, Town Criers eventually came to the Americas and they were important players in governing for there were few printing presses available and the populace was mostly illiterate. Criers stationed themselves in front of squares, market places, and inns and called the citizens to listen for the latest news, often by ringing a bell to gather a crowd and by shouting their words in loud, boisterous tones. After orating the news they nailed their announcement to a nearby wall or door and “posted their notice” for the educated townsfolk to read at their convenience. Eldon was his town’s Crier and he left his Post at the door of each citizen in town.

Photo courtesy of Brooklyn International Film Festival
At age 14, using his bicycle, he peddled his papers along his route in the afternoons, starting with the shuttered Colonial style homes on Main Street, many of which bore wooden plaques by their front door that identified them as members of the Historical Society - a coveted mark that distinguished one old home as more significant than the average, ordinary old home. He then circled back on Thurston Street, past the town cemetery (and home to the town’s Founding Fathers) and all the way to Marshfield Manor - the white-washed nursing home that sat at his route’s end. It wasn’t an overly ambitious route, thirty five papers on his busiest day, but it was his and it was only the beginning.

By the time Eldon turned seventeen years old he had quit school. He was left to his own devices as a child so that as a young man a job was worth more to him than an education. He expanded his route of The Post to include two hundred homes and picked up the route for the much larger regional paper, The Globe, which he delivered to two hundred and fifty homes and businesses each weekday morning, and two hundred and eighty every Sunday morning. Eldon was a hard worker but he was of limited ambition. He was content to deliver papers for a living and content to live in the same house and in the same town.

As an old man he still began his day by lifting his head up off his flattened pillow at 4:00am, dressing, and backing his Vega up to the top of his driveway where the delivery truck dumped the bundles of papers. He lifted each bundle, fifty papers per, by the string that held them together and loaded them into his car’s trunk and onto its seats.

Eldon held a monopoly on The Post and The Globe as, over time, he acquired route after route, outlasting every paper boy and girl, usurping and adding to his territory until he laid claim to the all routes in town for both publications. From the original route on Main Street in the town’s center to the most rural outskirts in the salt-marsh where some homes were built on stilts and sat surrounded by patches of red and pink sea lavender, it was all his. The only folks who didn’t receive a paper from the hand of Eldon were those who didn’t want one. But for a man so vital and prevalent about town, Eldon was largely invisible.

His job began long before most people woke, and even though he spent the day driving about town in his red, rusty Vega they only caught a glimpse of the man as he passed by, arm cocked with paper in hand. Eldon was no mystery since a mystery requires a party who wants to know something. Nobody wanted to know Eldon and Eldon was content to remain unknown. He did not attend town meetings or church services, and he only ventured out to buy groceries at the market and for breakfast every Sunday morning at the Wamesit Diner – only after The Globe’s Sunday edition was delivered, of course.

While they did not know the man, they certainly knew his work. When the town discovered the “War to end all Wars” had begun and ended, Eldon literally gave them the news. When the town lost its first son in the war that followed nearly thirty years later, Eldon put it on their doorsteps and in their mailboxes. "Prohibition Repealed," "Roosevelt Touts New Deal," "Man Walks on Moon," and "Ford Pardons Nixon" were just some of the headlines hastily grabbed by Eldon and neatly folded, wrapped tight with rubber band, and then tossed - never recklessly but always with purpose - for the subscriber to discover.

The Crier's reign came to an end on Sunday, July 4, 1976. When Eldon’s neighbor opened his door to retrieve his morning paper he paused and looked around in disbelief. The Globe was always on his front steps, waiting for him. Where was his paper? The neighbor slowly walked down his steps and up the stone walkway in his slippers and pajamas, under cover of a loosely tied and frayed bathrobe. He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed, and glanced around in hopes of finding his paper and satisfying his need for news. When he reached the sidewalk that connected his yard to the neighbor he knew only as ‘the guy who delivers papers,’ he caught a glimpse of something sticking out beyond the white picket fence that separated their two properties. Squinting in the morning light he focused and suddenly realized that he was staring at the bottom of a pair of worn out shoes. Eldon’s body lay at the top of his own driveway, surrounded by bundles of The Globe morning edition, all with the headline, “Happy 200th America!” printed above the fold.

Eldon Bradford died as he lived - alone and with his newspapers. Eldon’s Vega, with its taillights throwing a reddish glow through the early morning air, sat idling above him with a full tank of gas and with the hatchback wide open, waiting to receive the day’s delivery. The paper route would live forever but the Town Crier was now dead.

Photo courtesy of Frodobabbs

Eldon’s body was claimed by a relative and the man did so out of guilt more than love. The relative reluctantly paid for the burial himself, for over the course of his life Eldon had only planned for the deliverance of the news and nothing else. There was no funeral service and there were no flowers placed on the stubby, plain granite marker that lay above the fold of earth where Eldon’s body would forever rest.

Many times unremarkable people lead very remarkable lives. This was the case for Eldon Bradford. His life was dedicated to his town and to the news that happened in and all around it; but Eldon's life - and his death - went without notice and without so much as a post.

Write Away

2009-09-28T15:32:00.026-04:00

I started writing some short stories this summer, and it's still very much a work in progress. However, I have finally finished one. Well, I am not sure if I finished it or just abandoned it. The stories and the characters are not real, but I based them on real experiences and people I've known at one point or another.

I have a tendency to obsess and worry about what people might think or say, so to put this first one up here freaks me out quite a bit; but it also forces me to move forward. I do hope you like it.

LEARNING TO FLY
On a suffocatingly hot day, smack in the middle of August, 1973, a twelve year old boy sat in the back seat of his family's car. It was the kind of day that you remember when you think back about a summer day from your childhood. The air smelled an earthy mix of fresh cut grass and wildflowers, and the sun sat high in the sky, causing the stores and homes to splash shadows across the sidewalks on both sides of Main Street. In the background, the steamy buzz of the cicadas told you what you already knew.

They boy’s bare legs were sweaty and sticky on the black fabric of the car’s seat and he was restless and uncomfortable. His window was open and his arm lay draped over the edge of the aluminum molding that housed the inside of the opened window frame. He stretched his palm out, facing down, cupped his hand and held his fingers tight together, with thumb pointing forward. If he tried real hard he could find the right balance - the point where his arched hand sliced through the humid air with the least amount of resistance and seemed to float there, free of gravity's pull and free from the push of the headwind created by the motion of the car.

(Image courtesy of State of CT website)
Staring closely at his hand he remembered that his dad had once told him that this was how an airplane was able to fly, and that his small hand was no different than the wings on the massive steel birds that flew so far above them. His father, who seemed to always have a better understanding, said the hand split the air in half, and that because of the way the hand was cupped, the wind going above it moved faster than the wind moving below. The differences in air speed created differences in pressure above and below his hand, which created 'lift.' The boy struggled to find the spot where the air lifted his hand and held it aloft, and when he found it he struggled to hold it there. Balance, in all things, can be a difficult to find and to maintain.

The boy craned his neck out of the car window, causing the roaring wind to slap him in the face and blow his bangs up wildly. He squinted into the onrushing air as it thundered in his ears and watched a small, silvery jet set against a clear blue sky. Just the simple act of leaning out and into the maelstrom of air currents was enough to throw off the balance of his hand. It bounced up and down like a kite out of control, and if it were not attached at his wrist, his hand would have crashed down onto the pavement and bounced its way to a lonely stop, no different than if it were an empty soda can tossed from the speeding vehicle. The boy pulled his head back in the window and he worked to find the balance point again, thinking all the while of how one slight twitch and his 'wing' went out of control. He wondered how something as giant as an airplane could be subject to the same principles as his own little fleshy hand. His father's words about the symmetry between these two incongruous things now seemed dubious, at best.

(photo courtesy of Autophoto)
The boy, his sister, and his parents were riding in a 1968, Green Volkswagen Squareback Wagon. There is no need to describe the vehicle's features any further because its name is also its definition. His parents bought this car because they were practical people. The American automobile industry was in the throes of young adulthood and testosterone and ego lay behind the design and purchase of most cars on the road at that time. The stout 1970 Cobra, the mean ’69 Dodge Charger, and the bullet shaped Pontiac Trans Am - with its sleek lines, shiny paint job, and Bird of Fire emblem - were just a few of the lean and mean American muscle cars that laid patches of rubber on a nationwide sea of sand and gravel. The late 1960’s and early 1970’s were the time of the great American Automobile Allure; to everyone, so it seemed, but the boy’s parents.

They liked the idea of being different than everybody else; of quietly putting around at their own pace while the rest of the world roared by in a hurry. The boy’s parents cared little of what others thought, and more often than not, they believed that different was better. Foreign cars were few, and the German Squareback was an oddity. The Volkswagen Company produced 860,000 Squarebacks in twelve years of production, and his family's car was one of a kind in their small but busy coastal New England town. But it gave the boy’s parents a sense of pride and fulfilled their need for function over form.

The family car, while not the preferred means of transportation, provided the boy with an escape from life as he knew it; a chance to see how other people lived their daily lives and to observe the makeup of their surroundings. It mattered little where he went, so long as he went somewhere – the town dump swarming with the stench of things people no longer wanted, the grocery store with the “smiley lady” who punched prices into the cash register with her stubby fingers, or a trip to the beach after supper when the sun set and night washed over the land. These were all places with new people to watch and new experiences to experience. Over time, the boy became more of a watcher of things than a doer of things. He found it easier to observe than to participate.

When his parents were not around, the boy would sit in the Squareback while it sat idle and in the driveway. He would pretend that he was driving to someplace he’d never been, depressing the clutch and shifting its manual transmission into each gear. He hummed to simulate the noise the engine would make, rising in volume and pitch before shifting into the next, higher gear. He watched his parents closely when they drove and he tried to mimic everything they did, including proper use of the car’s directional and hand over hand pattern when turning the black, leather-wrapped steering wheel. He learned that living in a world of fantasy can often be easier than dealing with the reality of things.

The mechanics of his family car - of all cars - mystified him. When he glanced around at the myriad of lights, buttons, and knobs he wondered how so many small pieces and moving parts were imagined, created, and assembled. It seemed as if, all around him, new things were constantly being made, progress was happening, and people were moving forward with certainty, direction, and self-assuredness. The boy – the great observer - watched the world race by and saw others keep pace with it. Somehow, time slipped away and he was left behind.

The boy grew up, and as a man things didn't change all that much. When a person matures and grows they become more of themselves, for better or for worse. In this sense the man remained very much a child. He changed physically of course, but he never roared toward his destiny like one of those muscle cars he admired as a boy. Instead, he sputtered through his life, seemingly just along for the ride. He spent more time thinking about the things that he could not do rather than doing the things that he was capable of. Fear can be an awful thing. For some it can motivate and move them forward, but for others it can cripple and calcify. For the boy who became a man, change never came easy; if it came at all.

(Photo courtesy of FinnTravers)
Like his hand that he once hung out of the car window as a twelve year old, he searched for balance as an adult. As he propelled through life he was continuously caught between the forces that pushed at him - opportunity and risk - and the forces that pulled on him - self doubt and insecurity. Even after all this time he was barely aloft and he worked hard to find his trajectory, his sense of purpose, and his ability to soar. He knew it was there, but he was tiring of his struggle to find it.

Summer Weigh-In

2009-08-10T14:31:00.011-04:00

I "let myself go" this summer (more food and alcohol and less exercise than usual); and did the same with this blog, too. But I have been working on another 'project'; one that I may never finish (or finish to my liking) but it feels good doing it.

Staying fit with the pen is just like staying fit physically: Unless you are incredibly lucky and genetically gifted, you have to work hard and keep at it to see positive results; and when you stop and let "things go" it's twice as hard to start it up again.

I am now working hard at both.

photo courtesy of homeschoolcoach.wordpress.com

Brace Yourself

2009-06-22T15:55:00.003-04:00

I figured friends and family might want to see Caroline's new look. You can't see them very well but she has chosen to go with green and blue, for now.

She and Danny are playing the boardgame, Life at the moment. She is doing quite well in both versions.

Idol Worship

2009-06-22T11:47:00.004-04:00

Deb's Auntie Sue invited Danny to an autograph session with local athletes at the Shriner's Auditorium in Wilmington, MA. It was a surprise for the boy who thought he was accompanying Deb on a bunch of errands.

Danny is not very comfortable showing his emotions when he is outside of his comfort zone. I think he is too aware of what's going on around him to simply relax and enjoy the moment; something I can relate to. However, in this particular setting he lived and loved every moment.

Danny and a very gracious Mike Lowell.

Alongside Kevin Youkilils.

His favorite Red Sox player, Jason Bay.

Sitting where Jason Bay sat just moments before.

Playing Well With Others

2009-04-24T07:05:00.003-04:00

I was very lucky to have had two hockey teams to call my own this year.

2008/09 CHA Squirt 2's
I really loved being with these kids. I'd take them all again in a heartbeat.

2008/09 Team Rapid Finishing

There really isn't much difference between these boys and the ones above - just maybe the height of the hairlines. After a dismal start to the season, team Rapid Finishing pulled it together and played great hockey from January on up through the playoffs. Here is our team picture after winning the H-Puck League's Division 2 championship game.

Blondie Over Blue

2009-04-23T06:00:00.000-04:00

Happy 13th Caroliney!

No Matter How You Slice It...

2009-03-24T10:48:00.015-04:00

...deconstruction is never fun. But here is how I do it.

With all but one corner of ice completely melted I drained the liner by using a 2-step method: a length of garden hose for syphoning water over the boards and down the driveway, and a metal garden rake for poking many small holes in the liner for drainage into the ground.

I used my drill to remove all kick-plates from around the inside frame edges and sliced the liner in 6 foot strips (width wise) with a utility knife. Each strip was folded over itself length wise and rolled up like a sleeping bag for disposal.

Due to time constraints I spread the slicing over a 2 day period. The greener grass is a result of the moisture from where I just removed the liner.

Under the liner and without sunlight a 'helicopter' pod was beginning to grow.

Proof that seasons have changed, the town was across the street prepping the high school baseball field for practice.

ELEVEN

2009-03-22T00:01:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday, Scrat! You wear it well.

Le Patin Final

2009-03-05T07:30:00.012-05:00

Breakthrough Moment
Exactly one week ago I fell through the Four-em ice, all the way down to its liner. I stood there with boots submerged in 8 inches of icy water thinking two things: "My feet are really cold" and "The season is now over." The temperature was warm (near 60 degrees) and a snowstorm was only two days away - that's a deadly combination when you have a rink in your backyard in New England in late February.

Bouncing Back
However, ice is a lot like life - it continually surprises me with its fragility and its resiliency. In one week's time I patched the area of my misstep, shoveled a foot of snow off its surface, and was able to make the ice smooth again. I spent several nights coating it with hot water, letting it freeze, and then repeating the process all over again. It was an awful lot of work and I wasn't even sure if we would have the time to use the Four-em ice again - our schedule and the afternoon sun impose strict limitations. Looking at the long-range forecast I knew that time was rapidly running out on winter and on our backyard rink season.

Early Bird Special
First thing Thursday morning, before school, the kids and I took to the Four-em ice for our final skate. The air was frigid but the strong morning sun peeked around our house and warmed the air at one end of the rink; making us slightly more comfortable and serving as a harbinger of things to come. We were deliberate in our skating, partly because of the cold but also - I think - because we were determined to squeeze every second out of the ice before it began melting. As we passed the puck around there was a quiet concentration hanging in the air. It served as a backdrop to the sound of our sticks slapping against the puck and our skates crunching into the ice. Caroline, Danny, and I hardly said a word.

Language Arts
To me, that is the beautiful thing about the game of hockey. There can be constant interaction and communication between skaters and yet never a word spoken: Leading someone with a pass is just like leading a conversation, sending someone in a certain direction and watching them willingly follow; Catching up with the puck can be just like catching up with an old friend, appreciating where you both were and wondering where both of you will be going from here; and finishing off a play with a teammate can be as symbiotic as finishing the sentence of a person you know well, appreciating the chemistry you share and how it makes your relationship special. If all of the skaters in the game are on the same page you can write a damn good story on your sheet of ice; and that's just what Caroline, Danny, and I did for our final skate of the season.

Closing The Book
So, another chapter has been written on the Millin Four-em ice and it's time to close the book on the winter of 2008/2009; our best and busiest season of skating so far. There were lots of new faces this year and some familiar ones as well; always getting along and always having fun while making their memories. When it was time to take Caroline and Danny to school after our final skate we met at center ice and said 'goodbye' to the rink in our traditional way; a perfect punctuation mark to our final entry - until we open the book again next season.

Dedicated to My Ice
Much has been written here about Jack Falla. A friend of mine read Jack's book, "Home Ice" not too long ago and described it as, 'A good read but not life changing or anything.' But for me it was - not dramatically so, but it most definitely was. I tried thinking of a unique way to 'dedicate' the season to Jack's memory but anything I came up with seemed hokey and too contrived. Instead, I will continue dedicating myself to my rink and to the people who use it; just as Jack did when he was alive. To some that too may seem hokey but to me it sounds perfect.

Twin Cams

2009-02-12T23:59:00.056-05:00

Anybody who knows what a puck is has heard of Cam Neely. When I hear his name I think of 200 plus pounds of angry skater putting the puck in the net with little regard for the opponent's - or his own -well being. He was a rare combination of fury and finesse on the ice; full of raw emotion and energy but always smart and skilled. For a decade he was the face of the Boston Bruins. I saw that face in person last week - twice.

Monday, February 9th
Cam Neely's son plays on a team in Danny's hockey league and they faced off against one another in a state tournament game on Monday. While my team was in the locker room preparing to take the ice, Cam stood up against the Billerica rink's boards watching the game preceding ours. I passed within a couple feet of him and could have easily reached up (way up) and slapped him on his broad shoulders and said something dumb like, "Hey! ...Cam Neely!" But Cam stood there just like the other parents, looking more interested in being Cam Neely the dad than being singled out as Cam Neely the former NHL player.

Danny's team played very well but lost the game by the score of 3-1 and was eliminated from the tournament. The few times I glanced up from the bench and into the stands Cam was sitting there quietly watching or texting on his phone (perhaps letting Chiarelli know about the skilled #11 who plays for Chelmsford).

Thursday, February 12th
One of my duties as a member of the Board of Directors is to sign-in players and coaches for state tournament games held at our rink - the Chelmsford Forum. I was standing at my little table at the front of the Forum, signing in players and coaches for 3 games that evening - including the team that beat us on Monday.

Cam walked in like a normal, hockey parent carrying his son's normal hockey bag while his normal, 9 year old son was greeted by his normal teammates - who were congregating around my above average table. Cam approached me and asked, "Are the locker rooms this way?" I looked up at his crooked nose and battle scarred face and thought, "I have a man-crush on you" might not be the appropriate thing to say. So I simply replied, "Yes. down and to your left." And off he went.

During the game (which his son's team won) he sat in the stands as before; seemingly happy to just be there. After the game father and son left as quiet as they arrived - Cam was carrying his son's hockey bag over his shoulder while his son carried his hockey stick and a celebratory cup-cake.

These two Cam 'sightings' hardly make me an expert on all things Cam. But in my mind he represents the two faces of hockey: The one you should wear when you are playing the game and the one you should wear when you are aren't.

Danny plays this team again, in a regular season matchup on Saturday at 1:00p, at the Forum. I hope he shows his face again.

FEBRUARY 11th

2009-02-11T06:59:00.002-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEBBIE.

Friend or not, feel free to wish Deb a happy birthday at:
debbie.millin@yahoo.com

Big Sister, Big Brother

2009-02-05T00:59:00.004-05:00

As a parent, there are moments when you look at your kids and think, "When did they get so big?" This was one for me.

In just a few months they will be 13 and 11. I love that they are friends as well as brother and sister. I didn't even ask Caroline to put her arm around Danny for this picture.

Control Freak

2009-01-29T13:29:00.005-05:00

I am usually happy to let others have control. By nature I am a follower - not a leader.

However, there are some things I like to do 'my way' and apparently one of them is writing. I wrote a blurb for our local paper - The Independent - about a tournament the Squirt 2's participated in a couple of weeks ago. The paper printed it, which was nice. But they also edited my story, leaving a sentence that made no sense and made a gramatical error on the caption under my photo. They also cut out sentences and even lopped off my closing paragraph.

The same thing happened last fall when I submitted a story to them on backyard rinks - my opening paragraph (the 'hook'!) was rendered nonsensical. I know they have every right to do what they want with it and they can write a news story better than I. But it still bothers me that someone put their fingerprints on something I made. So, I am going to print the article, as I wrote it...right here, where I have total control.

The 2009 Western Mass Freeze-Out Tournament
The Chelmsford Hockey Association’s Squirt 2 team participated in the aptly named 2009 Western Mass Freeze-Out Tournament in Amherst, MA over the Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend. In temperatures that dipped to 10 degrees below zero, the Squirt 2’s turned the heat on their opponents and took Amherst by storm, winning two out of three games at the University of Massachusetts’ Mullins Center.

Facing a formidable Amherst team in game one, Chelmsford was victorious by a score of 6-3 due to balanced scoring and strong defense. Left wing Kevin “The General” Quinn led his troops by netting the game’s first goal on a heads up pass by his center, Jack Gump. Patrick “Hands” Hart was voted Player of the Game for his two goals, the second of which was the game winner. Danny “Scrat” Millin capped the victory off with an empty net goal and was a key defensive cog all series long. The Squirt 2’s breakout was in fine form thanks to good positioning by the forwards and by stellar play in the defensive zone by ever steady, strong, and solid Jason “Jay” Mercuri.

Game two saw an offensive explosion by Chelmsford as they faced off against the Providence Junior Bears of Rhode Island. Brian “Big Mac” McCarthy played outstanding two-way hockey and contributed three goals for a “hat trick.” His line-mate, and Player of the Game, Derek “Mic” Briand led all scorers with two goals and four assists as the Squirt 2’s trounced their opponents by a score of 8-1. Winger Sean Riley was a fore-checking machine whose hustle created turnovers that led to scoring chances. Center and team sparkplug Matthew “Stewie” Keller overcame fever and sickness to score the game winning goal mid-way through the second period.

The Squirt 2’s took their undefeated tournament record into game three and matched up well against the also undefeated Franklin, MA Flyers - who could not match Chelmsford’s raucous and colorful cheering section. Patrick “Skippy” White capped off a point filled weekend of play by scoring the Squirt 2’s only goal on a rebound off a smart shot from the shifty and versatile Timmy “T-Mac” McNamara. Liam Gleason played his usual physical style of hockey and went into corners and battled hard for position and possession of the puck. Chelmsford peppered their opponent’s goalie with shots – hitting the post twice - but just couldn’t put another puck past Franklin’s hot goalie. Tre Kehoe was his usual masterful self on the blue line, keeping pucks in the offensive zone and using his quickness and acute hockey sense to always make a smart play with the puck. Goalie Ben “Benny Brodeur” Molongoski played large the entire tournament and held the fort against a furious Franklin foray in periods two and three. Molongoski also did an exceptional job of covering up rebounds and flashing his glove to keep his teammates within striking distance. In the end, Chelmsford fell to Franklin by a score of 3-1 but the Squirt 2 coaches; Scott Millin, Bud Mercuri, John Gump, and Lou Briand are proud of how their players competed and represented Chelmsford in the 2009 Western Mass Freeze-Out.

Hockey tournaments are an opportunity for players to travel to different parts of the state or country to compete against other programs in the great sport of hockey. But tournaments are also a chance for teammates and families to get to know each other a little better and to enjoy each other’s company outside of the chilly confines of a hockey rink. The Squirt 2 players were all business during their games, but players and family members also spent time in the hotel pool, ate meals together, played hallway hockey, and attended a UMass vs. Providence College hockey game and a UMass vs. Temple University basketball game. The Chelmsford Squirt 2 team and their entourage of 50 family members had a weekend to remember both on and off the ice in Amherst.

Showing Initiative

2009-01-29T07:42:00.002-05:00

Danny has really impressed me with his willingness to pick up a shovel or scraper and help me with the driveway, clean off the cars, and clear the rink. I don't even have to ask.

In this picture, Danny and his friend Michael clean off the rink during Wednesday's snowstorm....

...while other kids went sledding across the street.

Weekend Activities

2009-01-25T20:05:00.005-05:00

Friday Night Lights
Danny invited Tre - his teammate and partner on defense -over for some after school skating. Tre is a quick, smart, and skilled hockey player; but what I like about him best is that he is an even better kid.

Jimnasium
Jimmy Shaw came over today and showed us all that he too is a great skater. The thing I love about Jimmy is that he has no fear - of failure or of falling. He passed the puck, he shot the puck, and was THE MAN on skates.

Jim, Sr. got 3rd man in. Some things never change. Sigh.

Happy Birthday, Pa

2009-01-24T10:02:00.002-05:00

Deb's father turns...well, some things are better left unsaid. Happy Birthday to the man who loves to take pictures of himself.

We hope you have a great day.

Image Is Everything

2009-01-14T00:13:00.004-05:00

The boys marked up the ice pretty good and here The Four-em sits under the lights. I scraped, shoveled, and swept it clean of shavings.

The snow is piled high on the sides. That's the highest I've ever had the snow and been able to skate on the ice at the same time.

A Hat Trick for Scott

Proof that the ice saw plenty of use.

Now look at the ice after a hot water flood. Isn't she beautiful?

Skate for a while, clean up the rink, and then strip down to your bathing suit and go in the hot tub and admire your work. Time well spent.

Skateurday Afternoon Fun

2009-01-10T18:18:00.012-05:00

Temperatures were in the low 20's this morning but the sun was shining brightly. Knowing that Danny was having some friends over in the late morning I put down 2 silver tarps, hoping they would reflect the sun on my one problem side - it seems to have worked...or it was just cold enough to offset the sun.

The boys arrived and so did the clouds, making conditions perfect for 2 on 2 action.

The Four-em regulars - Mitch, Thomas, and Chris joined Danny over the course of the afternoon. The ice was in use from 11:00 to 4:00.

Danny tracks Chris down.

Mitch and Thomas took 'crashing the net' to an extreme.

Putting Plans on Ice

2009-01-05T14:41:00.002-05:00

Friday, January 2nd
Caroline and Delaney made good use of the ice on Friday while Danny's team was skating on one of my player's backyard rink. Delaney has crossed over to the hockey skate side and made her mark on the ice with them.

Saturday, January 3rd
Danny and 3 of his friends skated for a loong time, playing 2 on 2. They only stopped for water and snacks and came in when they were tired and cold.

Monday, January 4th
Nothing works off frustration like shooting the puck. After getting home late from a game in Tewksbury I laced them up, worked up a sweat, and shot some pucks...in the net and against the boards.

Warmer temps are moving in, with possible snow this week. But then colder temps are expected later in the week. The ice is in decent shape.

Mitchtastic Day

2008-12-26T19:34:00.006-05:00

Danny had his buddy Mitch (aka "Tank") over today and they skated on the rink for a couple of hours. Tank and Danny have successfully parlayed this skate into a sleepover.

The temps hovered right at 32 degrees for most of the morning, but the sun began to really heat up spots on the rink, particularly around the edges. However, clouds moved in and since the kids are relatively light little water seeped up and over the sides of the ice. They came in because of being hungry and tired rather than because of the deteriorating conditions of the rink.

Danny is sporting his new NHL All Star jersey that he got for Christmas.

Our First Sheet

2008-12-23T20:10:00.002-05:00

Danny and I laced them up for the first time this season. It was a cold 27 degrees with a low afternoon sun and the ice conditions were pretty decent. The one corner was bumpy but we made do with what we had.

As a 2nd year Squirt Danny is even more fun to skate with now and we do so at a quick pace with lots of touch passes and stick handling. We did not have our net out. Instead we chose to pass, improvise, and fire an occasional shot off the end boards.

Ice Time

2008-12-22T20:30:00.004-05:00

Most of the rink is in good shape after getting about 12 inches of snow dumped on us - just days after getting 10 inches. Only where snow was on the surface did I have problems. Otherwise, I have a decent sheet of ice to work with.

I trimmed off the excess liner after putting up the kick plates. The plates will prevent tearing of the liner just above the ice surface from skates and sticks, which would lead to leaks. I obtained two yellow 8' sections of kickplates from the Zamboni driver at the Skate 3 rink in Tyngsboro one night this past summer. They were lying on the floor in the back of the rink and I asked him if I could take them home...he really only spoke Spanish so who knows if he really knew what I was asking, but he shook his head 'yes' so that was good enough for me.

Mixed Rinks

2008-12-19T12:53:00.018-05:00

Buried in our freezer, next to some frozen peas, under a neglected Popsicle from the summer months we didn't spend here, and lying on top of some old, ground beef dated 9/13/08, was a freezer-bag filled with ice chunks from last year's rink. They were 'bagged and tagged' in late March and have been stored in our freezer since.

Caroline and Danny, beneficiaries of a half day due to the storm, took last year's ice from the bag and tossed it into this year's water filled rink. I like the symbolism of this ritual (a ritual I did not create). It reflects continuity and the carrying over of lessons learned and experiences shared in years past. It symbolizes that while we may change - and our lives definitely change - the ice we make today is filled with the same hope and promise of seasons past. Today I remember Jack Falla and think of his family, particularly his son Brian, as he carries on the tradition of the Bacon Street Omni.

Great Expectations

2008-12-18T20:40:00.008-05:00

Thursday, 3:00pm
I pushed my timetable up a bit and put the liner down this afternoon in the relative warmth of the 40 degree temperatures. Friend and neighbor Jim gave me a hand and it took us only a few minutes. I put snow on the edge of the liner to keep it from lifting up in the wind. Normally I use 2x4's for that purpose but nature has saved me some labor.

Thursday, 3:30pm
The hose went in and Danny and I went off to hockey practice while it filled. I will only put a few inches of water in (4" in the deep end and 1" in the shallow end) until the snow falls tomorrow.

Thursday, 4:15pm
Looking kind of 'white-trashy' in the setting sun. Not the look Deb is looking for I am sure.

Thursday, 8:00pm
The rink has a couple of inches of water in the deep end and the water level is creeping up towards the shallow end.

Thursday, 8:30pm
As time passes the temperature drops below freezing. My hope is that the ice that forms tonight will simply absorb the snow tomorrow, turning it into a slush. The slush will then freeze solid as temperatures will stay below freezing for a few days.

That's my plan and those are my Great Expectations; but things rarely go according to plan when you build and maintain your own backyard rink.

Weathering the Risk/Reward Dilemma

2008-12-18T11:45:00.004-05:00

3 inches of snow fell the other night so I shoveled my yard after I did the walkway and driveway. Below freezing temperatures are expected and the long term forecast looks promising, making the decision to drop the liner and fill an easy one...but nothing is ever easy. Forecasts call for snowfall over the weekend.

My hope is to put the liner down Friday morning so that the snow melts into the water and helps to fill it. Then the freezing temperatures will arrive at nightfall and a slushy rink will freeze solid and give me a nice base to work with.

However, if the snow keeps falling long after the slush begins to freeze (but isn't solid enough for me to shovel) and gathers on top I will have a lot of work to do. In years past I have been patient and was willing to wait until January to fill. But, with the season being a relatively short one I am inclined to take the risk of more work for the reward of skating on Christmas morning.

ICE STORM

2008-12-15T11:26:00.006-05:00

An ice storm left nearly 1/2 million homes in New England without power as trees toppled and branches sheered off from the weight of the ice, bringing down power and phone lines and leaving many without heat or connectivity to the outside world. Roads were rendered inaccessible, electric wires dangled dangerously in neighborhoods, and supermarkets, restaurants, and businesses were forced to close.

Temps at night dipped will into the 2o's and families were forced to find hotels, relatives, and friends to stay with. We have some guests as well and the kids have missed two days of school...so far. I like it when people rise to the occasion and deal with hardship and don't get angry for things they can't control, no matter how frustrating it may be (wrote the man who had electricity).

We were lucky enough to keep our power throughout (people around the corner were not as lucky) but phone, cable, and internet access just returned. The limb to the left fell like a dagger on where my liner would be sitting. That might as well have been straight through my heart! Thank goodness I 'took Mother Nature's first pitch."

Here are some pictures of the damage and the beauty that Mother Nature can bring.

Let it Flow

2008-12-06T12:00:00.000-05:00

Friend, neighbor, and contractor Jim Shaw installed a hot water line out the rink-side of my house. I have an old boarded up window that sits in the foundation wall and it's relatively hidden but in an ideal location. It's a straight line from the faucet to the rink and I can't wait to use it for flooding purposes.

'Tis the Season

2008-12-05T06:38:00.004-05:00

Welcome to the 2008/2009 Millin Four-em.

As someone pointed out to me lately, all I've written about is people dying. True. It was a crappy Fall in that regard.

With some help from my friend Jack I put up the heavy end-boards last week. This week I finished setting up the frame, netting, bracing, and lighting. All I need now is to wait for the freezing temperatures to drop the liner and begin to fill.

New expenditures include energy efficient LED lights (for decoration across the netting), a heavy duty extension cord, and timer.

Jim, who all faithful readers know is my neighbor who fixes whatever I break, is going to install a new, hot water spigot off the rink-side of my house so that when I flood the ice surface I won't have to run two hose lengths out of the bulk-head - which faces the street side of the house. The spigot will be self-draining so it will never freeze up in the frigid temperatures, will be close enough to allow me to drop to one hose length, and with a quick connect flooding will be a snap!

I am officially "Jonesing" for Rink Weather.

Papa

2008-11-23T19:03:00.023-05:00

Henry J. Pagliarulo died on November 17, 2008. Papa lived eighty seven years, had four children (one of them Debbie's mom), five grandchildren, and six great grandchildren. His story is not dramatically different from most people that age but it is certainly worth telling.

Born on January 25, 1921, in his childhood home in East Boston, Massachusetts, Papa learned early on about the importance of family. He was the 11th of 13 children born to Anthony and Adelaide Pagliarulo, and his beliefs and ideals were formed by his experiences as a child during the Great Depression and by serving his country while the world was at war. Papa was a member of the Greatest Generation - a generation who knew that material things were fleeting luxuries and that family was a constant; a generation who sacrificed personal goals for the benefit of the world. Papa served in the Navy as a SeaBee during World War II and he, like so many others of that time, took those life lessons learned at an early age and set out to make his mark on the world.

On October 28, 1945, Papa married Florence Seminatore and they were married for over 40 years. I regret the time I came to pick Debbie up at her parents' home and was too nervous to venture upstairs while her family, including Nana and Papa, sat around empty dessert dishes at the dining room table. Nana died shortly after that and I never got to meet her. But I listened closely to the stories told by those who did know her. Nana was the perfect compliment to Papa. She was the elegance for his practicality, the tenderness for his business sense, and she shared her love for him with every meal she prepared.

Papa was a hard worker who rarely took a day off. He was the ultimate planner and provider, and nothing pleased him more than when he was overseeing and directing a project through to its completion. Papa was a skilled and successful businessman in the insurance business and a craftsman with a mind for numbers and calculating. His checkbook was always balanced to the penny and his accounts always in order. If there was a discrepancy you can be rest assured that Papa was right - just ask any credit card company that tried to slip a surcharge past him. He was a lousy tipper but took great joy in finding a bargain and then sharing the story with everyone.

Friends knew Papa as “Henry” and he made new friends everywhere he went – at the beach, in restaurants, by the pool, and around town. Papa opened his door to his friends and welcomed them into his home, cooked them meals, offered them a cold beer, shared their laughter, and reveled in their companionship. His cooking was not on par with Nana's but he did it with the same amount of enthusiasm that she did - just not always the same ingredients. A game of poker and eating his Clams Casino served on shells from the 1970’s were the two most common forms of gambling in his home.

Papa was good to us. The first winter Debbie and I made a trip to Florida to see him (yes, we stayed with him, on separate couches) we were only engaged. One morning he took us out to eat at the International House of Pancakes. When Debbie went to use the restroom he leaned over, took my hand and said, "You're a nice guy but you better treat her well - or else. I know people." He was so proud of Debbie and he loved to tell everyone about her and always had a twinkle in his eye when doing so. She was his first grandchild and, right or wrong, that made her special to him. I think I won him over though. After all, every time thereafter when we went to Florida he took us out to every restaurant imaginable - and he always made sure to hit Bobby Rubino's so that I could have my BBQ ribs and a beer.

During the summers when he was nearby in New Hampshire we swam in his pond, played on his beach, ate meals that he cooked, and had fun together. He would attend Danny's baseball games and sit through some long, hot innings; never complaining and always proud. Most days would end for Papa the same way: asleep in his chair with his mouth open, while a western played on the television at high volume.

Papa's body was shaped like that of Homer Simpson - and I write that with a happy smile on my face. He was funny, absolutely certain of himself, and when he walked he seemed to always veer to the right. I helped Papa close his cottage up for the winter in October, something I have done the last few years. Each time, as I stretched the heavy, metal chain across the driveway and clamped the padlock closed for him, I would ask myself, "I wonder if he will be here next year?" However, he never wondered for a second and would then give me a handshake and a kiss on the cheek and say, "Okay, Scotty. I'll see you next year. You and Deb come with the kids and see me in Florida if you can." And down the road in his brown Nissan Altima he would drive.

Living to the age of eighty seven is a wonderful thing. But when you live a long time you also experience loss and hardship, and Papa suffered many. He lost Nana eighteen years ago, ten brothers and sisters, and numerous friends over the years. However, Papa endured, took comfort in the joys brought to him by the next generation, and continued to love those who were still a part of his life.

Papa was a tough man too. His body suffered from many things including heart disease, diabetes, kidney problems, and a blood disorder. In recent years he sustained bumps, bruises, and cracked ribs from falls in and around his home. But Papa always got back up, determined to live his life the way that he wanted – in his home and on his own. He was lonely but he possessed a will to live that was stronger than most; a will deeply rooted in the belief that he was meant to live another day.

On November 13, 2008, Henry Pagliarulo made his final trip home from Florida. Papa returned to a cold, damp, and rainy New England a tired and sick man. He had checked himself into a hospital several weeks earlier and we had learned that the news was not good; there would be just enough time for Papa to come home to Massachusetts to die. As he completed his long journey and was wheeled into the Kaplan Family Hospice House he was thrilled with the reception he was given by his waiting family; equating it to that of a welcome worthy of the President of the United States. In typical Papa fashion his spirits were strong and his humor was still very much intact. He held court in the center of his suite making us laugh and easing our pain.

Minutes after arriving at The Kaplan House one of the staff members entered the room and asked Papa a simple question, “How are you doing, Henry?” Papa, with a wave of his arm towards his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren replied, “I’ve done quite well thank you.” He had absolutely no regrets.

Papa’s troubles here did not last long and Monday, November 17, 2008 was the day he decided it was time. He lived and he died on his terms.

I was lucky to have known Henry J. Pagliarulo and honored that he came to introduce me to people as, "his grandson." I also take comfort in knowing that the last time I saw Papa alive I looked him in the eye, told him I loved him, and was able to say, 'good-bye Papa." It's hard to feel so lucky and so sad at the same time.

Dressing Up

2008-11-09T21:11:00.008-05:00

So I am a little late with this.

Halloween is always a huge event in the neighborhood and it was a bigger event in the house than normal. Caroline and Danny had friends over before trick-or-treating and even more over after.

Caroline was a witch - with lipstick apparently - and Danny was Don Koharski, an infamous NHL referee. He even had a Dunkin' Donuts Munchkin box to collect his candy.

Carly, Christopher, Michael, Danny, Delaney, Caroline, Becca, Kate, Joey, and Abigail.

Having another donut.

Updates

2008-10-29T09:05:00.003-04:00

Fall is such a great time of year and for us it's also one of the busiest. Here is a progress report on what each family member is up to:

Debbie
Deb is back to work and, at the moment, is a consultant with High Street Partners located in Boston. The commute into 'town' is tough and the company is young and growing quickly but she is looking forward to helping them get to where they want to be. Debbie was also recently elected to the Board of Directors of the Boys & Girls Club of Greater Nashua and serves on its Executive Committee. She is very excited about the mission of the Club and is glad to be doing something in the community. Deb has also said good-bye to her Saab and is now driving a Nissan Altima - a sporty car that gets 30 plus miles to the gallon.

Caroline
Blondie is finishing up her field hockey season. She is both an Orange Twister in the recreation league as well as a member of the 7th and 8th grade town travel team. As a result she is playing twice a week and her teams are doing very well. Caroline is a great defender, sees the field well, and seems to always make the right play. As usual, she is doing well at school, stays busy with her friends, and is looking older by the day.

Danny
The boy is in middle school! 5th grade is going well and he has embraced his new found independence. Danny really likes his teachers, changing classrooms, and having his own locker and he is playing the trumpet for the first time. We are very proud of how hard he works to stay on top of his homework. Hockey has ramped up and the regular season is under way and goes through April. His Squirt 2 team is a formidable one and Danny is one of its key defensive cogs but also contributes offensively. He is such a fluid skater, finds and creates space for himself on the ice, and makes good, smart passes.

Manny
The cat is fat and that is that.

Uncle Don

2008-10-13T22:14:00.017-04:00

My Uncled Don died suddenly this weekend.

He was not my Uncle by blood; anyone can be an uncle by blood. Perhaps more meaningful, he was my Uncle by bond. My father met Don Fonda when they were in seminary together, back in 1965. My dad was an only child and I surmise he often wished he had a sibling. He and Uncle Don shared a lot together over the last 40 plus years.

Don Fonda was kind, very loud, and had a smile as wide as the open arms he would greet me with. He loved all genres of music (the guy liked Jethro Tull), once dangled his son by his feet down an outhouse pit to retrieve an air freshener he and I threw in, loved to laugh, cared about people, and made the most of his gifts and talents in his lifetime. The Uncle Don I remember growing up loved the Pink Panther movies, drove a green, Dodge Aspen station wagon, had curly hair and a beard, wore nice clothes (thick corduroy pants), and always was 'hip' and 'cool'; but he never thought of himself that way. His mannerisms reminded me of the actor, Gene Wilder.

The Uncle Don I knew as an adult was very much the same. I felt like he was one of my biggest supporters as he often told me I was doing a great job with the kids. He drove a Toyota Prius, loved his family, and was still 'hip' and 'cool'; but never thought of himself that way. Uncle Don remembered every birthday in this house and always sent cards wishing us love. He helped perform our wedding ceremony and once came to a hockey game of Danny's and cheered so loud you could hear his booming voice above all others. I like to remember the day we were Uncle Don and Aunt Jeanne's guests at Canobie Lake Park a few summers ago. He refused to let me pay for our tickets and told me we were family and that he was paying for family. Uncle Don was always fun to be around, saw goodness in everyone, and made things seem better when you were with him.

I am sad for my father and mother; I am sad for Aunt Jeanne, Debbie, Douw, and their families. Over my 40 years Uncle Don was a constant that I probably took for granted. Now he's gone, and like so many others, I will miss him.

Happy Anniversary

2008-09-18T08:43:00.001-04:00

Love, Scott

Jack Falla

2008-09-15T11:25:00.009-04:00

My inspiration for building my backyard rink, and chronicling it's successes and failures, was Jack Falla. Jack was an author and journalism professor at Boston University. He wrote for Sports Illustrated for a time, and went on to write books about the game of hockey and backyard rinks, tying his love for the game, his family, and his heritage into all of them.

My friend loaned me his book titled, Home Ice during the NHL strike season a few years ago. I read it and was immediately hooked on the idea of building a rink of my own. Because of Jack Falla, I have had 2 wonderful winters on the Millin Four-em. Because of my rink I have made new friends, started this blog, created memories for my family, and felt passionate about something when I was stuck in a funk and not feeling very good about being very good at anything.

Last night, as I was bringing the trash barrels down to the end of the driveway and walking past the idle Millin Four-em, I thought about looking into the possibility of taking Jack's journalism class at B.U., wondering if that was even possible. This morning I opened up my email and found out Jack died of a heart attack yesterday.

I never met Jack but have traded emails with him. I didn't know him well but he seemed like the kind of guy who had time for everyone - from Walter Gretzky to me - and he always returned emails and was kind, supportive, and witty. He never tired of sharing his experiences (the good and the bad) as a rink builder, he always had good advice, and he was able to sum up things as only a hockey fan could

He lived nearby in Natick, MA and I would always check with him for the best possible date for putting down my liner. I still chuckle at his response to my inquiry about putting it down in mid-December, during a brief, early, cold snap: "always take Mother Nature's first pitch."

The game of hockey is often misunderstood by the public. However, Jack understood it perfectly. Hockey is a game of grace, skill, and passion, but it is the people we meet and share our experiences with along the way who truly make the game great. As a backyard rink builder I will miss having Jack Falla on my team this winter.

Line Change

2008-09-08T19:28:00.012-04:00

"CHANGE!"

When I play hockey and I am sitting on the bench between shifts I cannot wait to get back out on to the ice. I sit with gloves perched over the top of the boards, watching the man I am going out for slowly run out of gas, hoping to see him turn towards the bench and hear him call out "change!" That's about the only time in life I like to hear that word.

You see, outside the rink, I am all about comfort and familiarity. I don't assume new roles very easily. I do it but I usually think I'm not good enough if I haven't done it (whatever 'it' may be) before. For the last two years I have served as an assistant coach for Danny's hockey team, and in doing so, I have worked for one of the best leaders, motivators, and coaches I know.

Now it's all changed. Danny made the jump up from Squirt 4s to the Squirt 2s this year, leaving his old coach, his closest friends, and familiar teammates behind. Now he has all new teammates and a new head coach - me. I am now the one responsible for leading, motivating, and coaching thirteen 10 year olds, four days a week, for the next 8 months.

When asked if I would be willing to consider coaching the team my first reaction was, "I can't do that - there are so many other, better qualified people." I know what huge responsibility it is and my greatest fear is that I would somehow fail the kids. But, after some thought, and listening to Deb tell me I was ready, I accepted.

As a result, my comfort zone is being pushed and I find myself in situations that I usually don't feel comfortable in. I still can't help but compare myself to others, but I am really enjoying the kids and the role of Coach, and I find myself wanting 'it' even more - for a change.

Deborah Millin

2008-08-27T07:49:00.005-04:00

For those of you who have been following along, Debbie has been home with us for a few months, taking some well deserved time away from what was once a stressful and hectic pace. She left her company after 10 years and has been looking for a new position; one that is rewarding and a 'right fit' for her qualifications and experience. She has attacked finding a suitable position with her usual determination and desire.

Her resume is quite impressive and her portfolio and skill set are second to none. For those of you wondering, 'what the heck does she do anyway?' take a look at Debbie's Executive Bio and Resume.

2nd Thoughts

2008-08-25T09:34:00.004-04:00

I can't do it.

I'm not shutting it down completely. The Four-em is too much a part of my thought process, and once in a while I have something that needs to come out of my brain. So, I'm confessing that I am lowering the bar and setting the expectations lower than they might have been. I'll be doing stuff but it may not be often and it may not be pretty.

I hope you stick around and check it out because...

I'm back!

Over, and Out

2008-08-19T23:56:00.010-04:00

I'VE NOTHING LEFT TO SAY.

I am shutting this thing down; pulling the plug; hitting 'delete'. I've thought about doing it before but Deb gave me her look when I mentioned it. So, I kept going and the results have been average at best and average isn't interesting. Sometimes the topics are redundant and too serious, and lately I feel like it's been more of a labor than a love ("Crap, I haven't written anything in a while - I better come up with something"). I don't think many people actually read this so it seems pointless to stress about writing posts that nobody is going to read.

Also, things are about to get real busy here. September has always been about change and new beginnings (much to my dismay), and "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end". I'd rather end it than just leave it here, dated and abandoned. It's been fun but I think it's done.

The Four-em has allowed me to make new friends and to connect and stay in touch with old ones. I appreciate every comment you made and post you read over these last couple of years. I guess I will leave the blog up and post a picture or two of the kids when something interesting happens, or leave an update about the progress of this year's rink, but I don't think I will do much posting (I can't bring myself to actually hit the delete button yet).

Thank you and so long.

Scott

Nanci D. Millin's Blog

2008-08-15T20:08:00.004-04:00

It's true that you can find anything on the Internet. My sister's blog about her cat is living proof. She issued a challenge to me, claiming that her blog will be more popular than mine. Seeing how as kids she was always the popular one, I am willing to concede that she will win this one. That's ok with me. Curiously, she does not include her name anywhere on her blog.

It should be noted that her most recent post - the one where her cat is posing with a wine glass, working at the computer - is merely a copy 'cat' of a blog I posted this past Christmas, using Manny as my prop.

To help Nanci Dale Millin along in her quest I am including some key words in this post so that when people Google her name they will be able to find her blog more easily, and know exactly who it was that created it.

Wakefield, RI Narragansett, RI Bay Realty Realtors Rhode Island Real Estate Nanci Millin

Band Aids and Muffin Tins

2008-07-22T23:47:00.000-04:00

As Deb was quick to point out to me a while back, my posts have had more to do with Danny's activities and experiences than Caroline's. She's right: Danny and I do spend a lot more time together and we are more similar in personality. My defense is that Caroline is 12 and 1/2 and spends less time with me (and us) and more with her friends. She is growing up, and slowly, growing away from us. It doesn't make me sad or wish she were little again. She has always been about 'what's next' in life so this makes sense to me.

I have loved and enjoyed each phase of her childhood and never wished that Caroline or Danny could be 'frozen in time' for my sake. But now Caroline is making a quantum leap from childhood to adulthood. She's got legs that are long, her hair has been bleached by the summer sun, she wears clothing she never wore before, and she walks with poise and purpose. I look at her defined cheekbones and catch glimpses of the child she once was and of the woman she will become. She's no longer cute...she's, gulp, beautiful and on her way to "what's next."

But hold on, she's not leaving me yet. Caroline fell today and split her chin open. It was a small but deep cut and required 4 stitches in an emergency room at a Lowell Hospital. I hated seeing her in pain, and not being able to make your child's pain or fears go away is one of the hardest thing about parenthood I'd have to say. But I took a strange comfort in knowing that she needed me again - to hold her hand, to tell her things would be ok, and to simply be there for her.

Or did she? I don't know the answer, but I do know that I needed to be there for her. It's selfish and it's silly, but I sometimes miss being 'the one' for her, and I have told Deb that I occasionally feel like the muffin tins the old ladies throw out in the classic Dunkin' Donuts commercial when Dunkins began selling muffins many years ago ("We won't be needing these anymore"). But today she needed me...or maybe I needed her to need me.

Whatever. I'll stick to what I do know: Caroline makes me proud, makes me smile, and makes me wonder what is next for her in life. I also know that she will figure it out as she goes; and if she stumbles and falls along the way and needs me to hold her hand or simply be there for her then that's what I'll do.

Blogged Down

2008-07-03T00:30:00.004-04:00

Yes, I have stunk at posting lately.

There is a lot going on 'here'. We are busy, my brain is racing, and my fears are in full force about a bunch of things. But, I'm not even going to bother telling you what they are. This is summer time and summer is for resting and breaking routines.

But will someone PLEASE enter something in my Guestbook, especially first timers! Even if you Googled 'boring blogs' and wound up here I'd like to know.

A Win-Win Situation

2008-06-18T13:51:00.005-04:00

The Cardinals won the championship series last night, taking both games from the Braves. They put on quite a show and should be proud of their season. Danny loves being a Cardinal and we are lucky that Danny is on the team for 2 more years.

But the part of the evening that Deb and I enjoyed the most was what happened after the game and after both teams received their trophies: Danny and Thomas chased each other around the outfield, laughing, and acting like 10 year old boys should. They even switched hats and appeared to have forgotten who won or who lost the game. Danny enjoyed his moment of victory and Thomas was sad about losing, but neither one cared too much to let it interfere with what's most important - friendship.

Adults can learn a lot from children.

One For The Ages

2008-06-16T23:02:00.003-04:00

When Danny made Majors I was warned: "There is so much pressure!" "They play to win!" "It's nothing like Farm baseball" "He'll have to adjust to not being the best one on the team".

It's all true: People come to watch the games who don't have kids playing that night and parents know who the leading hitters in the league are and who the best pitchers are. Sometimes parents complain about the calls an umpire makes; coaches have been thrown out of games in Majors; and there have been situations that are so pressure filled I am glad that Danny only plays the minimum number of innings this year. But fortunately, Danny has loved being a Cardinal and we are happy that he will stay with his coach for another 2 years.

During the regular season the Cardinals went 14-4, good enough for first place in Majors. Danny's buddy, Thomas, played for the 2nd place Braves. The two teams beat their opponents in the first round of the playoffs and faced each other tonight in Game 1 of a best-of-3 game championship series at the 110 Fields in Chelmsford, under the lights. And what a game it was...or is. I will explain:

The best pitcher in the league is on Danny's team. Jake just turned 13 years old, is in 7th grade, and he can throw absolute b-b's. He is as tall as I am and is virtually unhittable. He also hit 4 home runs during the regular season. Jake was the starting pitcher for Game 1.

The Cardinals took a 2-0 lead in the 2nd inning of tonight's game. The Braves, on a delayed steal home, managed to sneak a run in after a brief lightning delay in the 4th inning. The kids played fantastic baseball - both teams. Great defense, well executed bunts, good hitting, and good pitching is fun to watch. As a baseball fan you couldn't ask for more.

Going to the top of the 6th and final inning, the Cardinals were up 2-1. Jake reached his maximum pitch count after walking the leadoff batter in the 6th, and he was forced to hand the ball over to a teammate. A walk and two infield hits later, with two outs, the Braves went ahead 3-2. The Cardinals were the home team and had last at bats. The lead off hitter went down swinging. Jake, batting 3rd in the order, hit a 2-1 pitch well over 200 feet, over the center field fence to tie the score at 3-3. Danny and his teammates greeted Jake at home plate with a celebration worthy of such an occasion.

After calm was restored, the next batter took his place in the batter's box and immediately lightning was seen in the night sky. The umps are required to send players into the dugout for 15 minutes when this happens, and no sooner had the time passed when lightning was seen again -and then the rain began to fall. At 9:05 pm the game was suspended.

Both teams will pick up where they left off tomorrow night at 6 pm. Then, when Game 1 is finished, they will immediately begin Game 2.

Danny and Thomas are in the same class and I am sure that this will be the topic of discussion tomorrow. I am so proud of both of them - 10 year old newbies in a league filled with older, stronger, and bigger boys. It's hard to want one to win knowing that one will lose.

Face Value

2008-06-03T06:38:00.010-04:00

Danny was hit in the face by a pitch during his baseball game last night. There is no good place to be hit in the face but he was lucky that it was not the nose, eye, or mouth. He took it directly on the cheek, just above his mouth. There was a little blood and immediate swelling and bruising. He didn't loose any teeth and the cut was on the inside of his mouth.

Keep in mind, he is playing against 12 year olds in Minors and they throw hard. When the pitch hit his face I blurted out 'sh*t!' and ran through the gate and onto the field, expecting to find lots of blood and an unconscious son or at least one in complete agony. The crowd went silent and all I heard were my footsteps as I ran to his little body that lay flat on its back in the batters box. When I kneeled over him and looked down at his face I saw wide, watery eyes staring up at me. He answered my questions with a quivering lip but kept it 'together'. He was hurt but not in need of medical attention. We looked him over, made conversation, and were satisfied that he was going to be ok. His coach asked him if he could get up on his knees and Danny said, 'yes' and popped up on his feet and ran to first base (there was no stopping him). I stood at home plate amazed, surprised, and proud.

I am used to being the safety blanket for Danny. In times of stress, pain, or fear he always came to me for comfort. I'd scoop him up, put his little head on my shoulder, prop his little butt on my arm, and pat his back while tears and boogies soaked my shirt. But not last night; instead of running to me he ran away from me, and he stood on first base with a look that said 'don't even think about making me go sit down.' As his teammates and coaches called out "thata-boy Danny Millin!", I turned and walked back to the stands as the applause for Danny cascaded over the field.

He came around to score that inning and his toughness and determination was the talk of the field (I wish I had a video of him rounding 2nd base). I went over to the dugout to see how he was and to make sure he was keeping the ice pack on his cheek. He saw me, said he was 'fine', and moved down the far end of the bench. He didn't want me and he didn't want to leave his team.

I turned, smiled to myself, and went back to a calm but worried Deb in the stands. My little boy is no longer little and he no longer needs me all the time. He had his best game of the season as he went 2 for 2 and scored twice. He was also hit by a pitch in the face - and somehow, it was a wonderful night.

Crossing Lines to Reach Goals - An Op-Ed

2008-05-20T22:34:00.012-04:00

My son Danny is kind, thoughtful, shy if you don't know him, and a boy who follows rules and respects authority. He's often too afraid to take risks in life for fear of doing something wrong or making a mistake, and I wonder if because of that he will struggle to figure out who he is by imposing limits on himself. Lord knows I did. However, at a young age, Danny is following a passion and taking risks with something he is very good at: hockey.

As his coach and father I would watch him in amazement as he would stick handle through kids who could barely skate backwards and blow past cute little opponents who were playing for fun while Danny was playing to win. At times I felt guilty and wondered if parents thought it wasn't fair that Danny was playing against their kids. I watched my 'gentle little soul' who used to walk around while clasping his hands behind his waist as if deep in thought, turn into someone else when he put on his hockey pads, grabbed his stick, and hit the ice. He isn't mean and he isn't a bully out there (far from it). But for a change he was aggressive, confident, wanted something (to win), and didn't take crap from anyone. I'd wonder how this could possibly be the same boy who let kids cut in front of him in a carnival line because he was too afraid to say anything.

Sports is like life: You suffer defeats, enjoy victories, think you are great one moment and then do something really stupid the next. And sometimes you break rules, cross lines, and say things you shouldn't. Being a team player and a good sport are important things for children to learn. However, trying your hardest and wanting to succeed are equally important and should be encouraged. Good parents and good coaches struggle to teach kids how to do both, and if that's what you are doing, then you are doing the right thing.

Danny still has confidence issues outside the hockey rink. And when he is inside the rink he is too emotional and becomes angry too quickly at times. But that will change with experience and maturity. Experiences are how we learn. In fact, I am glad that I get to see Danny's 'Dark Side' emerge in the safety and structured environment that is Chelmsford Hockey. It provides boundaries, allows him to see the consequences of his actions, and provides a chance to do things differently (hopefully!) when there is a 'next time'.

Can I Be Frank?

2008-05-19T14:46:00.004-04:00

Jim is my neighbor and a contractor. He can build, plumb, wire, fix, make, and create anything you want. His wife, Jo, is a nursing home administrator. She supervises 300 employees and is in charge of the care of nearly 160 people who can no longer care for themselves. Both Jim and Jo are great at what they do and are great friends to Deb and me.

Administrator Jo recently hired contractor Jim to replace a dining room floor in her facility and Jim, in a rare lapse of judgment, asked if I wanted to help him. Consequently, I spent two days last week scraping up glue, spreading adhesive, rolling a weighted roller, and watching Jim do all the measuring. I like working for Jim because he knows my limitations, teaches me how to do new things, and accepts me for who I am. But spending two days working in a nursing home gave me quite a bit to think about.

When you are a resident in a nursing home you are most likely there to die. Some ‘go’ quickly and maybe some not quick enough. There are amputees, people who drool over themselves and others, people who talk to themselves, people who stare into space, people who are incontinent, people who scream out, and people who fit into all of the above categories. Most sit in wheelchairs scattered around the hallways, glassy-eyed, limp, and accepting of the fact that they are not going anywhere until their tired body gives out. The temperature inside the nursing home is hot and the smells are usually not good ones. Death seems to loom outside of each resident’s room as their names are printed on slips of paper that are designed to be easily removed and replaced after each one ‘passes’. I would watch some of the residents go outside for a smoke and wonder why they didn’t run, shuffle, or roll for their lives. It seemed like a depressing, sad, and lonely place.

Or is it? When walking through the hallways, instead of staring at my shoe tops, I began to look around more and I began to see things a little differently. I saw a toothless, hunched over, and wheelchair bound woman who earlier I thought was ‘out of it’ now singing along to every word of an Elvis Presley song on “50’s Day.” I saw an elderly man visiting his wife in her room and cutting her lunch up so that she could eat it more easily. I saw a staff member sitting beside a resident, holding her hand as if it were her own mother. I saw the staff smile, laugh, and talk to residents who weren’t making any sense. I saw that if you look the residents in the eye and smile you sometimes will get a glimmer of recognition or a spark of life. And, I saw Frank.

Frank is a resident who is in better straits than most of the others. He's not that old and he motors around in a wheelchair using his one good leg to drag himself forward. He has a big belly and red, splotchy arms. Both days I was there he wore Dickie work pants and black shoes with thick soles and white streaks on the toe…no doubt from navigating around in his chair by foot. Jim and I would be on our knees laying tile and Frank would roll up to the doorway to check on the progress of ‘his’ dining room floor. He would pretend to supervise us, monitor our progress, and tell us it all, “needed to be done by noon for the big dance.” We’d laugh and then he’d disappear for a while until he returned later and repeated a similar scene all over again. Once when I was walking past his room I saw him sitting in his wheelchair, sound asleep, with his head tilted back and mouth wide open.

It occurred to me that Frank, like most of the residents, was alright with where he was. Frank was happy enough, even though he was surrounded by death and the dying. I suppose I finally figured out that death is a big part of life at every nursing home facility, and that the people who work and live there figured that out a long time ago, and I would imagine at some level, embrace that fact. So, they don’t recoil at the ugly truths that getting old brings. But rather, I think they acknowledge them, accept them, and simply live with them. In the end, possessions mean little and while comfort is important all you really need or want is some dignity and some love in your life. Luckily, for Frank and for his fellow residents, that’s just what they get.

Big Doings

2008-05-15T20:31:00.002-04:00

DOINGS

A Little Something

2008-05-08T15:49:00.003-04:00

SOMETHING

Year 12

2008-04-23T22:11:00.002-04:00

Happy Birthday, Caroline.

I love you!

Bragging Rights

2008-04-22T08:19:00.005-04:00

It's spring, which means outdoor sports are in full swing here. Year #5 of baseball is underway and year #1 of lacrosse has also begun. Games and practices have us 'on the go' and that's ok. We enjoy being outside in the sun, seeing old friends, and making new ones on the sidelines. Here is a breakdown of how Caroline and Danny are doing in their respective sports:

Caroline had never picked up a lacrosse stick until this month. I was a little worried she would find it difficult to do and would get discouraged, expecting it to be as 'easy' as field hockey. Per usual, my fears were only my fears. After a few lessons from Auntie Kim (who played lacrosse at her nerdy college) Caroline had the basics down. There were a few indoor practices with her team, and then she played her first game and did great. She can catch, cradle, and throw like she's done it for years. One of her coaches called us at home to tell us how impressed she was with Caroline's progress, game sense, and focus. Their first game, against Haverhill, was a win but what really makes me happy is that Caroline is having a great time playing lacrosse this Spring.

For those of you following along at home, Danny was drafted by a Major team - the Cardinals. The days of 'we are only playing for fun' are over. It's very competitive and they play to win. Danny is playing with and against mostly 11 and 12 year olds. I was worried about lots of things - his confidence, how he would be treated by his new coaches (which for the first time wouldn't include me), how his team mates would take to him, and his general safety. Once again, my fears were only my fears.

Danny is the smallest player on the team, doesn't play as much as he would had he not been drafted and when he does play he is in the outfield. But he hustles, practices hard, and is learning more about baseball than I could ever teach him. His coaches are in their 20's, have no kids, and coach because they love the game. His team mates have 'adopted' Danny and the other two 10 year olds, and made them feel a part of the team. Danny is having a great time and the Cardinals are off to a 2-0 start. But most importantly, he is having a great time playing baseball this Spring.

Old Time Hockey

2008-04-19T22:25:00.007-04:00

There was a time that I would simply wait for playoff hockey to begin in Boston. Ray Bourque, Cam Neely, Bobby Carpenter, Craig Janney, Pete Peeters, Adam Oates, and Brad Park: All have their place in Bruin history and in my memory. It was watching those players play on Channel 38 that drew me to the excitement and passion of the game of hockey. As a teenager I would listen to the games on my radio after having had to go to bed (for some reason I can't forget the Havoline oil commericals), and as a young adult my friend Andy and I would plan 'beer and chili nights' around the games. The 1980's were great, the 90's good, and then everything thereafter was vanilla, and more often than not, pretty damn sour.

It's been four years since the Bruins were in the playoffs, and longer since they were relevant in the NHL and in the city of Boston. Hockey in Boston went Kaput in 2004 when the Bruins lost in the first round to the Canadiens (again). But professional hockey is making a comeback, finally, and after a 'long' hiatus, the Bruins are fun to watch again. Their last foray into the playoffs was frustrating. Their most recent is inspiring. There are some strange coincidences between now and then:

2004
The Bruins were the #1 seed in the East.
Montreal was the #8 seed in the East.
The Bruins had a 3 games to 1 series lead.
Claude Julien was the coach of the Canadiens.
The Millins were in San Francisco, CA visiting my sister, Kim during the series.
The Canadiens won the series.

2008
The Canadiens are the #1 seed in the East.
The Bruins are the #8 seed in the East.
The Canadiens had a 3 games to 1 series lead.
Claude Julien is the coach of the Bruins.
Kim is in MA, visiting the Millins at the time of the series.

I hope the trend continues.

Beginnings, Middles, and Endings

2008-04-13T09:46:00.005-04:00

Endings, first.

Rapid Finishing is Finished
After ending the regular season in first place, Team Rapid went to pieces in the playoffs, posting a paltry1-5 record in the playoff round and failing to even qualify for a consolation game. We played flat, uninspired, and downright ugly hockey. My linemate and friend, Andy, separated his shoulder early on and was out for the last 5 games. Jack and I had to play with someone different on our line every game and we never had the chemistry we are used to.

Middles, second.

Sickness Running Ramped
All five of us (don't forget Kim) have been through the wringer this week. Stomach aches, headaches, coughs, endless nose blowing, and fever. You name it, we've had it and we are still fighting through it. Caroline missed 2 days of school this week and Danny missed 1.

Kim's Training for Work
Before setting off to wander parts of Europe and Asia, Kim was a personal fitness trainer in San Francisco, CA. She was recently hired as a trainer by the gym (Best Fitness) that Deb and I belong to and has been employed there for one week. She is doing quite well and has taken in several clients and has tortured Deb and I with several training sessions.

Beginnings, last.

The Cup Quest
The Stanley Cup playoffs have begun. All six of us (Kim AND Manny included) have chosen a team from the Western and Eastern Conferences to make it to the Finals, and then made a Cup winner prediction. I regret one of my picks already, and sadly, Manny is the only one to have both teams at 2-0 at this point.

Cottage Coming Together
We opened the cottage at Summer Village. Due to all the sickness in the house and our crazy schedules, we haven't spent as much time getting it ready for the summer as I thought we would. However, some furniture is in, selected walls have been painted, and we look forward to getting the house ready for a fun and relaxing summer.

Pride

2008-04-04T17:04:00.008-04:00

I love a great speech and I love a great song. When you combine the two it gives me goose bumps.

U2's song about Martin Luther King, Jr., called Pride (In the Name of Love), is a single from their Unforgettable Fire album. Pride is a song I like to turn up loud when I am alone in the car, and I like to imagine that things in the world aren't as bad as they seem. It's a song I like the kids to hear. It gives me hope.

Things seem pretty bleak in the world today. I can't help but wonder what it must have been like to have lived in America when JFK, MLK, and RFK were assassinated and civil rights marches, rioting, and the war in Vietnam were in the headlines. Why don't we learn from our mistakes and why can't we figure out how to overcome hatred?

One man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One man come, he to justify
One man to overthrow

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love

One man caught on a barbed wire fence
One man he resist
One man washed on an empty beach.
One man betrayed with a kiss

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love(nobody like you...)

Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride

In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love...
- Pride (In the Name of Love) U2

Fantastic Four Finale

2008-03-30T20:02:00.005-04:00

The Chelmsford Squirt 4's had their last game of the season today. It's hard to believe that it's over, and I am very sad that it is - not because my son led his team in scoring (but I am proud of him for doing so); not because they were winning most of their games at season's end (9-4 with 5 shutouts in their last 13 games); and not because hockey is the greatest game on earth (it is, period, end of discussion).

I am sad because I will miss coaching all 17 of those kids.

I'm probably too sentimental and I don't like it when things come to an end. But we coaches have averaged 4 days a week with the kids since the first week of September. They have played 45 games in that span and I have enjoyed every game, practice, and minute (ok, there were some tough minutes too) with them. I will always be grateful for the opportunity to help John coach the 4's and I will always remember those kids...

...and boy did they finish the season in style. They played a team that is headed for the playoffs - East Boston. They are a very physical, chippy team that early in the season had our kids on their heels and feeling very intimidated. But not anymore. The Fours played dominating, team hockey and won 5-0. They were relentless, confident, and focused, and at the end of the game they all hugged each other at center ice and raised their sticks in a salute to their parents who were clapping wildly in the stands. It was a fantastic finale for The Fours.

Auntie Tim

2008-03-26T19:33:00.005-04:00

It's been crazy here at the Millin household. Amongst all the craziness is a new addition to the household. My younger sister, Kim, is living with us for a while. She spent 10 years living in San Francisco and then spent the last 2 1/2 years traveling around parts of Europe and Asia.

Kim is a great house guest. The kids love having her here and so do Deb and I. I call her 'The Genie' because when I make a wish ("Boy do I wish the laundry was washed and folded") it comes true! But that's not why we like having her around. Kim was always fun as a kid and that's still true today: She makes Deb watch scary movies, analyzes the healthiness of everything we eat, gets us to try new foods, stumbles over easy words, and laughs at things that really aren't that funny. I referred to her as 'Auntie Tim' in the title because that's how Danny pronounced her name when he was little.

This Easter the five of us went to Rhode Island, along with Mom and Dad, and met up with my sister Nanci and her boyfriend - also a Scott (yes, it's creepy how much she admires me). We met at the Cheesecake Factory at Providence Place and had a great afternoon.

Happy Birthday Danny

2008-03-22T10:33:00.005-04:00

The boy is now 10.

Danny, Thomas, Mitch, Kyle, Lewis, Caroline, and Delaney all went into Boston for dinner at Bertucci's in Faneuil Hall.

After dinner we all walked over to the Aquarium IMAX theater to watch the U2 in 3D movie. I highly recomend the movie for the music, the message, and the experience. Great for families.

We returned home and the kids played kitchen hockey and went in the hot tub. It was frigid and windy to the point their wet footprints froze.

Danny and the boys opened presents and watched some Hockey East playoff action.

The boys went to bed at around midnight, woke up around 8am and had pancakes, eggs, and bacon for breakfast.

Happy Birthday Danny!

Fantastic Fours

2008-03-17T00:12:00.004-04:00

The Chelmsford Squirt 4's had a tournament in Springfield, MA this weekend. The experience exceeded my expectations going into it. The kids played hallway hockey, swam in the pool, played in the arcade, roamed the hotel in packs, and stayed up late. The grown ups relaxed and got to know each other a little better...and stayed up late. Each family did their own thing but had enjoyed each other's company.

The 4's lost their first 3 games and wound up in the 'consolation bracket'. They were down 2-0 going into the 3rd period when Anabelle score her first goal of the season. It seemed to change the momentum and the 4's scored 2 more, including Danny's breakaway goal with 5 minutes left in the game to win it. The rink was electric, the coaches were proud, and the kids were happy.

It's Draining

2008-03-11T14:21:00.007-04:00

Wild winds and warm temperatures have doomed the Four-em's '07/'08 season. I was hoping for a slow, gradual melt combined with cold night time temps to squeak out a morning skate or two. But, that won't happen. The sun is too strong and the leaves are absolutely everywhere. It's a big mess.

So, I poked a couple of holes in the liner, inserted a couple of hoses into them and let it drain.

Such a dreary and depressing business. What was once such a proud landmark is now an eyesore in need of demolition. I will have the kids grab some pieces of ice to put into the freezer for storage until I begin filling it next year.

Movin' On Up!

2008-03-06T20:33:00.004-05:00

Hockey season is winding down with only a few more weeks to go. Tonight Danny received a call from his new baseball coach - he is being "called up" to Majors this spring, meaning that he will be playing with other 10 year olds, but mostly with 11 and 12 year olds!

He is excited but also very nervous. It probably means the end of my coaching 'career' but that's ok - I have been lucky enough to help coach his team since he was 5.

Congratulations, Danny! We are very proud of you.

2008-03-03T11:23:00.004-05:00

It was 22 degrees at 7:30am and the ice was frozen nicely. Caroline, Danny, and I skated before school. Here is Caroline's bus picking up some schoolmates, but not her! I drove her in a little later.

Danny stayed on the ice and fooled around until I returned, and then we practiced tipping in shots for a bit.

Both kids smelled 'like recess' on their way in to school. A good way to start the day.

We have used the rink more days this week than any other week this winter. Temperatures will rise dramatically today with warm temperatures and rain expected this week. We said, 'good-bye' to the ice; again.

Morning Fun Before the Sun

2008-03-02T14:14:00.004-05:00

After a 7:40am game for Danny, we came home and relaxed for a bit. Caroline returned home from a sleepover and we all went out on the ice before the sun became too strong. The Shaws came out and joined us as well. Jim lapsed back to his goaltending days and may pay for that in the morning.

I am happy.

How Many "Final Skate" Entries...

2008-03-01T19:32:00.006-05:00

...can one person have? Sorry, It's been exhausting, but somehow I've managed to keep part of the rink going.

After shoveling off the snow this morning, part of the rink was usable. Caroline and Danny skated for two hours on the worst ice imaginable. But, it didn't matter. I joined them for a while and we listened to the Bruins on the radio as they went into OT and won, in a shootout, against the Thrashers.

Thanksrinking

2008-03-01T00:25:00.014-05:00

Anticipation is a good thing. It gives one hope and a feeling that better things will come. And when you get what you want, it feels good. However, sometimes it's the unexpected that gives one true satisfaction. Who doesn't love a pleasant surprise?

The kids went to bed at 9:30. I went out to the Four-em at 10:00 figuring it would be good to get a skate in before the snow started to fall. So I put the Eastons on in the basement, put the MP3 player in my ears, opened the bulkhead, and walked out to the Four-em...

....just as it started to snow. But it mattered not. Pucks hit the net, pucks missed the net, and pucks went ricocheting off the boards (Scott K. was the first person I remember to use the word 'ricochet'. I was about 8 yrs. old and it was after a church supper in Rowley. We were up in the hallway where the Sunday School classrooms were and we were throwing a super ball down the hall to each other. Scott said 'did you see how the ball ricochets off the wall?'...Scott was a really smart kid, but apparently wound up having drug 'issues'...but I digress).

I skated hard and thought harder:

I thought about how lucky I am to have a 'hockey widow' for a wife. Hockey used to be a dirty word. I find myself surprised that she not only embraces the fact that I love and need the game, but she has encouraged our son to feed his own hockey addiction...and I would have to say that she has a touch of the 'hockey fever' herself.

I thought about, as I sat on my homemade bench w/ a Bud Light, how lucky we are to be surrounded by neighbors who are more than just 'people who live next door to us.' Bernie and June, Bob and Ellen, Karen and Lorraine, and Jim and Jo make this a great place to live.

I thought about how, as a kid, I wanted more and more hockey in my life. As you can tell by our basement (the 'dark side'), I now have it. (click on picture to really see the mess).

I thought about how frustrated I was with the weather this winter and how it has made for less than ideal backyard rink conditions..and as I skated around the Four-em in the falling snow, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was happy with what I had; crap ice and all.

Not a bad way to end the year. Surprise, surprise.

Salvage Operation

2008-02-29T08:20:00.005-05:00

The temperature was 4 degrees this morning, and last night's flooding and attempt to make the ice skateable worked.

At 7:45am Danny and I put our skates on and went out before school. The forecast says it will be cold enough to skate on Saturday, but we are expecting heavy snow tonight thru tomorrow and much warmer temps next week. So, this looks like this was it for the season. But I won't give up until the big thaw begins!

Scott's Last Stand

2008-02-28T20:27:00.006-05:00

I am very tired - tired of working so hard to get the ice in decent shape, only to have a 'weather event' make it unskateable. This week has been a series of steps - backwards and forwards.

Tuesday PM
Snow and rain in the evening left 'crap ice'. Went to hockey. Lost 4-0 to a team we beat twice this year. BUT (I love big 'buts'), since our last meeting they picked up Andy Heinz (brother of former Bruin Steve Heinz) as a center, and their goalie was just one year out of Merrimack College (that would be Division 1 hockey Merrimack College). I was amazed (and jealous) at how quick and smooth they were. Once again, I am starting to realize I might not get drafted by an NHL team....Drove home from Haverhill tired and a 'loser'.

Wednesday
Ice was crap in the morning. Shoveled. Spent day trying not to think about ice. Flooded ice before leaving again for hockey, hoping for a miracle. "Flurries with little or no accumulation" began falling. Played an hour an a half 'pick up' in Lowell. Great skate and very fast. Only 2 subs per side. Came home at midnight, tired, and the "flurries with little or no accumulation" had accumulated, a lot.

Thursday
Ice was crap in the morning. Part frozen slush and part eaten corn on the cob. Shoveled rink. Shoveled driveway, walkway, and neighbors' driveways. Spent day trying to avoid thinking about rink. Came home from Squirt practice tonight and flooded it real good. Lots of water, hoping it filled in as many nooks and crannies (mmmm. Thomas' English Muffin, with butter and grape jelly) as possible.

Looking at the weather forecast, this weekend looks like my last stand. I have put my stick in the ground, and let the pucks fall where they may.

The....

2008-02-25T14:26:00.006-05:00

...end?

While we were away visiting Grammy and Pa in Maine during school vacation, we received about 6-8 inches of snow here at home. Upon returning, I found that much of the rink was still covered in a white, fluffy snow that was easy to shovel off. But roughly 1/3 of the rink was covered by a thick, crusty layer of snow that melted in the direct sun and then refroze into 'crap' ice (why use fancy words when plain ones will do?). So, I shoveled the snow and then used an ice chipper to hack the layer of 'crap ice' off the 'non-crap ice' (why use real words when made up ones sound better?). I was left with a somewhat level and smooth sheet of ice. I then flooded it with the garden hose and as the temperature dropped into the low 20's overnight, it froze nicely.

Danny and I put on the skates just before 8am this morning and spent an hour before school on the Four-em ice. We skated hard, passed, shot, and played around until Debbie made us get off (someone has to keep the boys in line). Just before we left, I took Danny out to center ice and gave him a hug and told him I loved him - 'cuz I do - and that's how we say good-bye to the ice at the end of the year. Since Caroline was at school, I had to wait until she got home and then I took her to the center of the kitchen floor, gave her a hug and told her I loved her - 'cuz I do.

By 11:00am the ice was puddled and soft. 40 degrees in late February does a lot more damage to ice than 40 degrees in January.

There are warm days and cold nights ahead, as well as more snow, sleet, and rain. I hope we can say good-bye to the ice at least one more time this year.

Deb's First Day Off

2008-02-19T15:44:00.005-05:00

If you count yesterday as a would be holiday, today was Deb's first day not at work. Sadly, she has spent it sick and in bed with a cold. However, she did accompany us when we brought Manny to the vet for her checkup.

Deb has been busy interviewing and networking, and has a few promising leads. She has a good idea what she wants and is determined to find the company and job situation that is right for her. But, until she does, we are glad to have her home with us!

It's school vacation this week so we hope to maximize our family time.

Game 3 3:00pm vs. Groton

2008-02-17T21:45:00.004-05:00

Lost 6-4
Tournament Record 0-3.

Another tough one. Groton is a team that Chelmsford was 1-0-4 against during the regular season so they always are a good team to play and are evenly matched. The kids seemed tired for this one - 4 games in 48 hours will do that. But, they went down trying and are playing their best hockey of the season. They have lots to feel good about.

There is a girl on Danny's team named Sophie who is small and is almost frail looking. But Soph has the biggest heart and internal motor I've ever seen. She was relentless today, and scored 2 goals, including one from her belly after being tripped up from behind. The reaction that girl caused on our bench and in the stands gives me tingles just thinking about it. To see someone achieve success after putting so much time and effort into something makes me very happy.

After the game we watched a little bit of the Squirt 1 game, and then had the Dohertys back to the house for pizza. John had to go and ref a game, but Maria, Thomas, and Hannah stayed and hung out into the evening. It was a great way to end a busy but fun weekend.

Game 2 7:10am versus Acton/Boxboro

2008-02-17T12:09:00.003-05:00

Lost 5-2

Another great game by the fearless Fours, but again, it was against a really good opponent. A/B spent a majority of the time in the offensive zone and Chelmsford was constantly under attack and did a good job of keeping them at bay. Great defense and goaltending is what kept the score from being really lopsided. We told them what a good job they did and they have nothing to feel bad about.

Danny had another solid game on defense. For someone who plays defense so much, he really has a lot to do with the team's offense. He generates a lot of offense by his skating and passing the puck up to the forwards. Even when he goes through 2 or 3 players all by himself he is always back in position when the puck comes back towards his end. He isn't the fastest skater on the ice, but when he has the puck nobody catches him.

Manny thinks so too.

Game 1, 8:00am vs. WIlmington

2008-02-16T10:37:00.006-05:00

Lost 4-1

Summary
Wilmington is a very good team (they are in first place in the Dual State League) and this loss was not so frustrating because the Chelmsford Squirt 4's played very well. It is tough to get much offense going against a team that is as good as Wilmington is defensively, especially given their size, strength, and quickness. Chelmsford passed the puck well, skated hard, and played good defense. They 'wanted it', and as coaches, that's what we want to see.

Danny played defense and did a good job of pinching in their zone and fading back when necessary. He really understands the game's strategies and concepts. He had a couple of end to end rushes 'through the forest' (they have HUGE defensemen) but couldn't get a clean shot off. He also made some good passes up to his forwards. I am very proud of how he played today.

Apparently that wasn't enough skating for the boy, so Danny and I went out to the Four-em ice for an hour, before the sun got too strong. Deb brought us spaghetti outside and we gobbled it up and skated some more.

Then, this evening the Maxwells came over for a quick visit. It didn't take more than a few minutes before the kids were outside on the ice. No skates this time, just sleds and boots.

Becca pulls Auntie Tammy along the ice...before Tammy fell on the sled and smashed it to smitherines.

Emma and Becca take Danny on.

Uncle Yo hurts his back trying to keep up with Danny.

Boodles pastroodles plays goalie.

Blog Buffet

2008-02-15T10:07:00.007-05:00

There's a litte bit of everything in today's blog. So belly up to the buffet and help yourself. I hope it's easy to digest, doesn't make you sick, and leaves you satisfied:

Deb's Last Day
She left this morning for work at 8am, and along with 40 to 50 other people, will hand in her badge, cell phone, and laptop and walk through the exit for the last time. It's tough to capture what the last 10 years have been like, but when she walks out that door she will take friendships and experiences that will stay with her forever. And that is the most important thing. She is sad, but it's time to move on.

Danny's Tournament
Chelmsford hosts the Presidents' Cup hockey tournament this weekend. Including a regular season game tonight, the Squirt 4's will play a minimum of 4 games in 3 days. Depending on how they do there will be one more game - for the championship.

I am going to do game summaries on the blog over the weekend, including a little blurb about Danny's play in each game. Anyone in the area who likes to go to the rink early in the morning, here is his schedule:

Tonight: 6:00pm vs Nashoba, Skate 3 Red Rink
Presidents' Cup Tournament Games
Game 1: Saturday, February 16th, 8:00am vs. Wilmington @ Tyngsboro Skate 3 Blue
Game 2: Sunday, February, 17th, 7:10am vs. Acton/Boxboro @ Chelmsford Forum
Game 3: Sunday, February 17th, 3:00pm vs. Team 4 @ Tyngsboro Skate 3 Red

The Rink's Last Stand?
I battled the elements this week and got the surface of the Four-em so that it's nice and smooth. But, like every other time it's been good this winter the weather changes drastically and now the temperatures are in the 40's. Danny and I went out this morning before school. Note his bus in the background.

I wonder if this will be "it" for this year...

Look at this kid. He's trying some crazy moves out there on the ice. I don't think he can pull it off in games, but it's fun to watch Danny be creative and have fun with a stick and a puck.
**Editor's note: He tried it tonight - after I had a conversation with him about how he should never do that during a game. I was so mad. His team was down 1-0 at the time and after he tried it they were still down 1-0.** There is no "I" in T-E-A-M.

The kids spent an hour outside on Tuesday, in the pouring rain, after getting 4-6 inches of snow overnight. Here they are across the street in the middle of the ball field.