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Auto Maintenance Lessons from Dad
Something Dad did—something I didn’t fully appreciate until after he was gone—was keep one master log book for all of his equipment. Cars. Lawn mowers. Snow blowers. Weed wackers. Anything with an engine had a place in that book.Inside, he recorded all the important details: the make and model, the type of oil it required, when it was last serviced, and the work that had been done. Oil changes weren’t guesses. Maintenance wasn’t reactive. Everything had a history, written down in his careful handwriting.
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Tools and Memories
Tools have always been a big part of my life. First of all, there were none, or let’s just say some. My dad was not a fixer-upper at all. He had a brother who was, and would satisfy some of my dad’s desires when requested to do so. For example, he built bookshelves in Judy’s and my bedroom together with a corner desk. I think my mom knew more about using tools than Dad ever did. But then, there was no interest on his part to really do any type of fixing or building. I believe his only desire for tools was to have some of his dad’s old tools, my grandpa Ottos. -
Wealth Is in the Moments
As a kid, I always knew we were rich.
Opening presents on Christmas morning usually took over an hour — partly because Santa went a little overboard, but mostly because Lisa opens presents slower than molasses in January.Every Easter, we practically got a new spring wardrobe — new shorts and shirts for summer, maybe some outdoor toys, sandals, and a few nice outfits. It always felt like a seasonal upgrade — trading static-filled sweaters for flip-flops, mosquito bites, and the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass.
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Sidetracked Anniversary
Thirty years ago, we weren’t writers -we were women with glue guns, glitter, and a dream. The Sidetracked Sisters started as a mom (Sandy), her two daughters (Lisa and me), and her sister (Judy), selling hand-painted crafts in someone’s living room.