At Home In School, In School At Home

Well, we finally made it official: Mary is going to be homeschooled next year. The others will continue to go to public school, but this really is the best thing for Mary at this point. Why? Well, Mary is 11 and going into 6th grade. She takes after me, academically speaking, than she does Leslie (Mrs. Summa Cum Laude from WSU) – which isn’t to say she is struggling as much as I did in school. Still, you add that to the horror of what passes for pre-teen culture in this country these days… I wouldn’t mind if all my kids decided to homeschool.

We are using the K12 program and working closely with our school district. Leslie is looking forward to it, Mary is beside herself with excitement, and I wish I could stay home as well to be more involved. This is something that I have always wanted to do with my kids. Something about it just appeals to me.
It is a new experience for us all and I think it will go well (with some expected rough spots at times). And here’s a big, fat, “Phhhhbt!” to my kids’ current teachers.

New School Semester…Must Be Time to Play Games!

Classes started up again this last week. And what a long week it was too. Being an old fart (at least these kids make me feel like one some days) can really be a drag some days. On a more positive side, I joined the university’s Master Swimming program (5:30 AM workouts! YIKES!!). It has been years since I swam competitively and it was nice to get back in the pool – I kept thinking: “I sure hope the lifeguard is awake. He might have to earn his pay this morning!”

I’ve set a goal for myself to not only do continue doing good in my classes (last semester went GREAT!), but to also do the “Brute Squad” workout by the end of the year. For those interested in what that means (and if you are familar with swimming terminology) you can see what that entails at www.wsumastersswimming.org/news/brute.html

And on an even more positive note, the new semester has brought back the gaming folks! Yea! Eight of us showed up this Saturday for some gaming. Unfortunatly I couldn’t stay long, so I only got two games in: Tikal (which I had be itching to play for a long time now) and a lightning speed version of Carcassonne. I lost horribly in both games. I was greatly impressed by Tikal, and it could very easily become a top favorite.

I also learned more about the history of this particular gaming group. It turns out they started as a Diplomacy club. I think they still might play every now and then, but I haven’t seen them play since I joined up with them. Maybe they are keeping me away out of fear of my superior negotiating skills…yeah, right… Before I came along, it looked like they mostly played games like Settlers (K&C mostly), Carcassonne, and a wide variety of Steve Jackson games – mostly Munchkin (shudder).

It’s fun to see them come up and ask what I brought in my bag of goodies this week. Since none of them had heard of BGG (nor have any joined even though I continually mention it – slackers) most of the games I bring are new to them…and they really enjoy them. Still, it’s a fantastic way to spend each Saturday morning: teaching new games, playing new games, getting stomped in previously mentioned games, etc…

print “Hello World!”

A brief history of my (extremely limited) computer programming experience:

  • My very first experience (somewhere between 1982 and 1985) was on a Commodore Vic20 making a little stick figure do jumping jacks (I think that was probably in BASIC, but I can’t be sure). I was still very young and didn’t have the patience to do much more than that.

  • Sometime around 5th grade (1985), there was a (mostly unused) computer in our classroom that had the LOGO programming language…you know, the one with the turtle…forward 50, right turn 45, forward 50, etc. If that doesn’t sound familiar, don’t worry about it.
  • Although I played on computers, I didn’t have much interest in programming for quite a few years.
  • It wasn’t until somewhere in 1994-1996 that I started teaching myself HTML…okay, that’s a markup language and not a programming language, but my experience is so limited that I’m going to count it anyway.
  • I took a few college classes to learn the BASIC programming language. It wasn’t much, but I finally began to understand that I could actually do something with programming. However, BASIC wasn’t powerful enough to do much, and I really didn’t have the desire to delve into anything more complicated.
  • This past week, I bought myself a book on the Python programming language…and I love it. I’m not very far along in the book, but I’ve already started building a little project of my own. It reminds me of the simplicity of BASIC, but is much, much more versatile, and from what I understand it is used by a lot of big name companies.

    Now, I’m not kidding myself into thinking I’ll get back into the computer field and actually use this stuff. I’m just interested in seeing how it all works and slop together a few programs that would interest me (making utilities for various offline games). It’s just a hobby. My first project is developing a little program to help run a game called En Garde! Actually, I’ve put together an variant called Thyatis En Garde! that is based in my favorite D&D campaign world.

    I realize there are kids half my age (17…egad) who could program circles around me, but that doesn’t bother me at all. I’m just in it for fun, not for profit.

    Only a Dad

    Came across this poem today and I’d thought I’d share:

    Only a Dad
    … But the Best of Men.
    Only a dad, with a tired face,
    Coming home from the daily race;
    Bringing little of gold and fame
    To show how well he has played the game,
    But glad in his heart that his own rejoice
    To see him come home and to hear his voice.

    Only a dad, of a brood of four,
    One of ten million men or more,
    Plodding along in the daily strife,
    Bearing the whips and scorns of life
    With never a whimper of pain or hate,
    For the sake of those who at home await.

    Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
    Merely one of the surging crowd,
    Toiling, striving, from day to day,
    Facing whatever may come his way;
    Silent, whenever the harsh condemn,
    And bearing it all for the love of them.

    Only a dad, but he gives his all
    To smooth the way for his children small;
    Doing, with courage stern and grim,
    The deeds that his father did for him.
    These are the lines that for him I pen;
    Only a dad, but the best of men.

    (Author Unknown. Source Book of Poetry, Al Bryant, comp.; Grand Rapids, Zondewan Publishing House, 1968.)

    Perhaps I am being overly sentimental. My life has been incredibly busy lately – mostly with (once again) trying to determine what I want to be when I grow up. What will my role be in society? Will I make a difference? Will I be happy in a world of distractions and disappointments?

    Over the past several years, I have held a philosophy that may or may not be shared with others: When things are a mess, refocus on the basics. It has worked extremely well at work, and I realize it is what I have been (unconciously?) doing for the past few weeks. My point being this: I am a father. It is what I am, it is who I am, it is what I want to be. All the rest is just “chrome” on the car of life – pretty to look at, but ultimately non-functional.

    The unspoken (unwritten) foundation for that previous paragraph is that I also want to be a husband. Leslie and I were talking last night about how nice it is to be such good friends that while their might be times we don’t spend as much time with each other as we’d like, we will always be there when the time is right. I love my wife more than I can conceivably put into words. Sure, there are those times when I get grumpy (more often than I should) or she gets irritated with me (not nearly as much as she has a right to). But I know that after I ride in on my white horse to rescue her from a dragon, we can ride off together in the same saddle towards the next adventure where she will most likely rescue me from the next dragon to come along. We’re a team, we’re in love, and no matter what life throws at us, I know she’s “got my back.”

    Yup, it’s back to basics for me. And the basics = my family.

    Water: Friend or Foe?

    I started competitive swimming when I was 8 years old and have been doing it off and on for the last 25 years. Okay, for a lot of that I wasn’t really motivated, much to the chagrin of my sisters/coaches/whoever. Last year I received my certification in scuba diving, which is something I always wanted to do. My father was once really into sailboats and some deep, genetic part of me finds a certain amount of thrill in balancing the forces of wind, wood, and wave.

    All that being said, one of my biggest fears in life is drowning. I have nightmares about it. I go into near panic when I see one of my kids struggling at swim lessons. Standing on top of the Eiffel Tower and leaning out as far as I can doesn’t provoke the same terror for me as being out in the ocean and thinking about how DEEP the water is.

    My First Blog. Ever.

    Hello to anyone reading this. This is the first time I have ever blogged anything. Bear with me. I feel that I have jumped into an entirely new society that I know nothing about. Basically my reason for being here is, I feel it is good for one’s soul to keep a journal. I myself, don’t particularly like to write, so I guess I’m gonna type. However, by no means is this “journal” private. If that were so, I wouldn’t have put it on the internet, now would I?

    I guess before I get too personal, I’ll tell you all what I’m about. I have no weird hang-ups, and I’m not on a crusade for some rediculous cause. Like my description says, I’m just a regular, everyday 22 y/o Canadian guy, cruising through life. On the surface, there is nothing particularly interesting about me. But, I find once you get to know people like that, they can be the most interesting people to know.

    You see, I live in a very small town. Actually, I don’t even live IN town. I live OUTSIDE of a town with fewer than 2,000 residents. Probably 80% of you know what small town life is like. I’m 22 years old, single, I just bought my first house (yesterday, actually), and I’ve recently discovered that I’m bi-sexual. Well, I “discovered” it when I was probably 12 years old, but you know how it is, puberty is a bitch, you don’t know if you’re gay, straight, neon orange, a Black Angus Cow, whatever. Anyways, I’ve battled with that decision for 10 years. Small towns don’t typically “allow” non-straight people into their society, and my town is no exception. I’ve had to hide this my entire life. Recently, (within the last 10 months or so) I “came out” to a male friend of mine, my best friend, actually, the “brother”-type. This came about one night, several weeks after we both ended up drunk and in bed together. Awkward moments, err, uh weeks resulted, until I finally broke the ice by telling him I was bi. With images of him smashing my face running through my head, he said “That’s cool. Thanks for being honest with me.” And that was that. That one heated night has never been spoken of since. I vowed I would never let sex come between myself and a friend ever again. Well, my vow meant shit, lol.

    Two weeks ago, another close friend of mine, Brad, asked me, (privately) if I was gay. He didn’t say it accusingly, it was as if he was asking me what time it was. I responded “no – I’m bi. There’s a difference.” (Which I truly believe, although I know some people don’t agree)
    Once again, images of me getting pummelled flashed in front of me, and once again, that didn’t happen. Brad extended his hand, and said “Welcome to my world”

    Sidenote: Brad is a complicated fellow. He’s very emotional, whether it be agressive, sad, happy… All in all, he’s a very hard person to read. He and I frequently have talks about life and all that crap, and he always finishes by saying no one will ever understand him; he’s in his own little world, and he’s scared that his “world” is going to consist of only him for all time.

    So anyways, he was as relieved as I was that someone could finally join him in his “world”. Apparently, he was more terrified of people finding out about his sexuality than I was. As I matured, I grew less and less scared of people knowing this. Now that Brad has opened up, he thinks he’s going to be tarred and feathered. Which he’s not. Our town isn’t that judgemental.

    We agreed to keep each others secrets. Which we have. And it feels good to not have that secret bottled up inside me anymore. But for now, I think that’s enough about me. I’ve been sitting down wayyyy too long. Plus, I need a smoke.

    Life. Is. Good.

    What else can I say? I am totally, absolutely, 100% in love. I know, you all have probably figured that out by now anyway, but since my last post, Bitch has completely left the picture. Yes, they broke up. Brad’s been having a hard time with it, and honestly, I did feel awful for him at first. There was actually a point where I would have liked to see them back together because he was just inconsolable. But he’s come around a little now, at least that’s what he’s projecting, and he has all but officially moved into my house. He’s spent the past 11 nights there, and we’ve had a few “put-it-all-on-the-table” talks during that time. I admit I went through another period where I denied my feelings for him in order to make him feel better but he cornered me last weekend and said he knew what I felt and that it was okay. I still couldn’t drag out of him what he was feeling however. But as we climbed into bed, exhausted from an incredibly long day and evening, he rolled over and gave me this huge, genuine hug, nuzzled his head into my neck and said “I love you” into my ear. I knew he could see my smile in the dark as I told him that I loved him too, and for the longest time, he wouldn’t let go of me. As a matter of fact, I think I fell asleep before he did let me go. Anyways, like I mentioned in my last post, our relationship is at the point where we can sleep together now without completely raping each other every chance we get, which is nice sometimes. I guess you could say we’ve become somewhat of a married couple when it comes to bedtime… haha! I dunno, I’m just rambling. I am honestly swamped at work right now (which is where I am now) but I have been promising an update and this is the best I can do with my schedule for right now… Just letting everyone know that things are better than ever between the two of us, and again, feel free to email me anytime.

    clarkkent383@hotmail.com

    Later

    March Madness

    No…this isn’t about basketball. Have I ever mentioned how much I REALLY dislike rabid sports fans? But I digress…

    It’s been a busy month with all the birthdays and our 10 year anniversary. Plus we have been fighting a round of the flu in the household. We had one day where the three older kids were all throwing up at the same time…not fun.

    Leslie and I haven’t been able to get out to do anything for our anniversary. Between the new baby, sick kids, work, school, church callings, lack of money, it has been pretty impossible. It’s kind of strange to think about being married for 10 years. It seems like a long time and a short time at the same time. (How many times can I use the word “time” in a sentence?) I suppose I could take this opportunity to reminisce about years gone by, but I’m not feeling particularly nostalgic at the moment.

    I’ve started up yet another blog…this time it is an exercise related one. Although the name is “Water Blogged“, you can see there has been a distinct lack of water thus far. The original idea was to use it to track my swimming workouts, scuba dives, etc. It might just end up being a place to write more random thoughts…who knows?

    Tomorrow I mail off my application packet for graduate school. They make their decisions in May. I’ll have to wait a whole month to find out if all the effort was worth it. Blech…

    An old friend’s return…

    Okay, so I admit, I’ve been incredibly lazy with the blog since before Christmas… I REALLY appreciate anyone who reads it, but honestly I just didn’t feel like blogging… Until now, because something really awesome happened on the weekend that I HAVE to share…

    So Brad and I have been hooking up more often than ever; Bitch has been staying at my house less and less since she started back to school, Brad still stays once in awhile (probably not as often now because he too returned to work) and it’s just gotten so mainstream that not much seems particularly ‘special’ anymore. He still fucks me like a wild man, as I do him, you know, good hard rough sweaty fucking but that’s what we’ve always done. We did pull another all-nighter last Thursday night, totally unplanned, we both fell asleep on the couch watching TV and when I awoke around 2:30 I had a throbbing hardon. Before I could fully wake up though, Brad awoke and walked into the bathroom. When he came back out he turned to walk into the bedroom and I waited until I heard his pants hit the floor and I called him back out. He poked his head around the corner,

    “What?” He asked.

    “Get out here. We’re gonna have a contest.” I said slyly.

    He walked out in his boxers, “What kind of contest?” He asked,

    “We’re gonna have a jackoff contest since I’m horny. You’re always horny, so I know you wanna. And where it’s so late whoever cums first wins” I half-expected him to just turn around and walk back in to the bedroom but he smiled and said “Okay!” and dropped his underwear while walking to the couch.

    I turned on a porno and we started jacking off, which quickly elevated to us jerking each other off, to me sucking him off (best blowjob I’ve ever given, so he said… I’m getting much better at deepthroating) and then after a few minutes he turned into a whore-boy and was begging me to fuck him. I mean like, no preparation, no fingers, rimming, nothing. I started to put a finger in him, and he grabbed my hand and said “No, your cock. Like, right now. All of it” So despite the look of sheer pain on his face I slammed it home and fucked him like crazy on the couch, the coffee table, the floor, at some point we moved to my bed where I plowed him some more. Then I was begging him to fuck me, which he did and it also felt like the best ever. Like, brace yourself on the headboard. He had me by the hips and was pulling completely out and shoving it all the way in. I grabbed my cock and jerked it once and exploded all over the bed. Suddenly he pulled out and flipped me over and straddled my thighs and pumped his cock viciously until he blasted all over my face and chest. He fell on top of me and started licking his spooge off my face and then stuck his tongue in my mouth. After a few minutes he stood up and pulled me into the shower where we cleaned each other off and ended up fucking again, it was wicked. Then we sat on my couch until 6:00 a.m. and just talked, smoked, shot the shit so to speak, and here I am having to get up for work at 7. Just before we drifted off to sleep Brad told me to take his car to work and he would take mine to his dad’s garage and clean it all up for me while I was at work. So I awoke and went to work (dead tired, by the way) and met up with him again Friday afternoon. He spent Friday night at his house and Saturday was spent just being lazy I guess…

    Now for the best part of the weekend…

    I’ve mentioned before about my ex-roommate Leigh and how we had messed around a couple of times before like 3 years ago and neither of us had mentioned it since, really. Well Saturday night, Leigh’s girlfriend had to work the late shift and said she probably wouldn’t feel like going out after work anyway, but that Leigh could feel free to go out with me if he wanted. So I picked him up around suppertime and we ate and went back to my place and drank a few beer, a couple of other buddy’s came over and we all went out to a party, then to the bar afterwards. By the time we left the bar and my friend Ian was driving us home, Leigh was passed out in the backseat. Since Leigh’s house is in the opposite direction as my house, I told Ian to just take us both there and I’d call Leigh’s g/f when we got there to let her know where he was.

    When we pull in the driveway, Leigh half-awoke and must have thought he still lived there, and climbed out of the car, honestly with eyes still closed, walked around Ian’s car, around my car, in the house, into the living room and onto the couch just like he used to when he lived there. I was laughing hysterically at how smoothly he did it all. So I grabbed another beer and walked over the couch and sat at Leigh’s feet. Being drunk and horny, and a porno being on TV, I started to get a little brave. I needed to jack off, and when Leigh passes out, it takes a LOT to wake him up. Apparently he wasn’t as passed out as I had thought, because before I even had my belt unbuckled he started to stir. He moved his feet up onto my lap, right on top of my hard dick. I froze for a minute just to see what he was up to. Suddenly I felt his foot move slightly 2 times. I grinned, as this was our signal for “let’s go” when we used to fool around before. (i.e. if we were passed out somewhere, etc) so I flexed my thigh muscle twice back. His foot moved twice again, I flexed again. With that he sat bolt upright on the couch and yanked his shirt off. He stood me up and started yanking my pants off while I took care of my shirt. We were both naked in like record time. I noticed that he wasn’t nearly as apprehensive as he used to be. Before, he’d be really nervous and reluctant and especially get really awkward after it was all over, but he was like a new man this time. I called him on it and he just said “well since then I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with the idea, as long as it’s only with you, and I never wanted to do anything while I lived here just in case it caused some friction.” I was touched but didn’t wanna turn this into a big long talk so I grinned and said “Speaking of friction…” and wrapped my hand around his shaft, which in case I haven’t mentioned before, is freakin’ gi-normous, like beer-can thick and about 9 inches long, and Leigh is only about 5’6″ or 7″ so on his small (but muscular) frame it looks even bigger. I went way down on him and he sounded like he really appreciated it. He had his hands wrapped around the back of my head pumping away and asked if I was gonna let him fuck me finally. (We never actually fucked before because I was a lot less experienced back then and his dick was just scary-looking so we always stuck to blowjobs)

    So when he asked and I lifted my head and went “Oh fuck yes” he looked kinda surprised. I said “Well, I’m a little more experienced now than I was back then so I think I can take that just fine now” and that’s when he asked if me and Brad were fucking. I trust Leigh with everything but I didn’t really wanna betray Brad so I just told Leigh that I wasn’t saying any names but that he wasn’t exactly off track with that guess. He smiled, nodded, and said “I figured, don’t worry. I won’t say a word.” and I went back to sucking him.

    “So are you saying that Brad is hung bigger than me?” He asked.

    I laughed and lifted up again, “Fuck no! Well, he’s not small by any means but man, you got a porno cock here. I’ve never seen anybody with one like you before.”

    He asked me how long we had been doing it, and looked surprised when I said over a year and a half. “So you really do have lots of experience then!”

    I smiled and nodded. He then said, “So how do you like it?” I crawled up his body and looked him straight in the eyes and said “Hard, fast, rough. Just as hard as you can give it to me. And I’m serious.” His jaw dropped and I felt his cock harden even more in my hand. He was always a big leaker and there was no exception this time. My hand was nearly soaked and he still tasted the same as always. I told him this and he asked what he tasted like. I said “I dunno, you taste like you, but I always loved it. Even better than Brad” He seemed quite flattered so he let me suck him for a few more minutes before he lifted me up and asked where the lube was. I grabbed it from my bedroom and he asked where I wanted to do it.

    “Right here is good” I said, meaning the couch. I started greasing us both up and he had this look of excitement in his eyes that I had never seen before. He had always looked very nervous and scared but now he was much more comfortable.

    I positioned myself over him and started working him into me verrry slowly.
    “Nervous?” He asked.
    “Fuck no, I’m an old pro at this now.” I smirked back.

    Well, Leigh is bigger than Brad. And I noticed. I must have been wincing because he asked very quietly if I wanted to stop.

    “God no. I’ve wanted to do this since the first time did anything – it’s happening this time.”

    “Good.” He said.

    After a few minutes he was in and I felt much better (and fuller). I sighed and looked down at him. He grinned up and asked if I was good. I affirmed and started slowly riding up and down on his pole. He immediately threw his head back and grabbed my hipbones. I went increasingly faster until he was moaning and gasping out loud, his head still back on the couch. I bent down and started sucking on his neck and ear, which he apparently really liked.

    “I know we said no kissing but that feels fucking good” he hissed.

    I tightened my legs and my ass and started riding him harder. His nails were digging into my ass cheeks and as I rode away, I abruptly stopped. His head snapped up and asked what was going on.

    “I want you to plow me,” I said, “but not on the couch.”

    We stood and went to my bedroom, where Leigh shoved me down onto the bed on my hands and knees and shoved his way back inside me, my head spinning.

    “Oh goddammit just fucking like that man. Just as hard as you can” I breathed.

    He started slamming away and moaning and swearing and sweating and I just kept telling him to go faster, harder, rougher. He had one hand on my right hip and his left hand was clawing at the back of my shoulder as he jackhammered his Italian sausage in and out of me. I felt him bend over my back and start biting the back of my neck, licking the sweat off of me. I started shoving more roughly back into him and told him to make me cum. His right hand went underneath me and started jerking me off, but I slapped it away.

    “I mean make me come from the inside.” I said.

    “How?” He asked, between pants.

    “It can be done, just keep doing what you’re doing and it’ll happen” I assured him as I reached behind us both and grabbed his ass. He raised up on his knees and grabbed me around the waist and pistoned in and out quicker than ever and I started to feel the tingle. The closer I got, I raised up and leaned against his heaving chest and grabbed his hands with mine. He squeezed my fingers and growled “Are you close?” in my ear. “Un huh” I replied, and squeezed his hands tighter. He sped up yet again and in about 3 or 4 pumps I started cumming. It was one of the few full-body orgasms I have ever had and it took a lot to just stay up on my knees. I wrapped his arms around my chest and pushed back onto his cock. As I was shooting everywhere, I heard him say “Holy shit, you really are cumming” and that seemed to spur him on.

    When my orgasm had subsided I told him to stop for a minute. He pulled out and I flipped over onto my back, placing my legs on his shoulders.

    “Your turn” I said as he shoved back in.

    “It ain’t gonna take very long man” he said, still panting.

    “Fill me up. I wanna feel you blow inside me Leigh. God you got a big cock” I just kept talking dirty to him and I knew when he bent over me and placed his hands over my shoulders that he was getting close. He was biting his bottom lip and his breathing was quick. The more I talked the louder he was saying “yeah yeah oh yeah here it comes man FUCK here – it – COMES” and over the edge he went. He shoved hard down onto my pelvis and rammed all 9 thick inches deep in me and coated my insides with what felt like a humungous load of cum. It must have been because he was slowly pumping in and out as he shot and I could feel him running out of me.

    His breath was hot on my neck and he was breathing so hard I thought he was gonna have a heart attack. I ran my hands up his sides, around his arms, and up the side of his head and through his hair. I ran my nails lightly down his back to his ass and held him there, his body still spasming mildly. I turned my head and kissed his neck and told him to stay in me. He grunted a low “un huh” and I felt his lips on my shoulder, kissing me back.

    At some point we separated, and I awoke hours later, Leigh still sound asleep beside me. I snuck out of bed and went out to the living room to have a cigarette. I laughed to myself when I walked in; the place was trashed. As many times as Brad and I have had crazy sex like that the living room has never looked quite this bad.

    I went back in the bedroom and crawled back in beside Leigh. I lay there looking at him for a few minutes when he awoke, looking back at me.

    “Well that was fun” he said, grinning.

    I laughed and said that yes, it was.

    “I know you’ll keep this quiet, you always have before. Maybe we can do this again sometime?” He asked.

    “Uhh, yeah definitely man. Most definitely. Maybe I can convince Brad to have a threesome sometime” I suggested with a smile.

    “No, I think we should just keep ‘me’ between you and me. You and Brad just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing and we’ll just keep ‘us’ between us.” He said.

    “Oh, okay, no problem. I won’t even mention it to him.” I told him

    “Okay, cool.” He said, relaxing.

    A little while later we got up, showered, and I drove him home. Leigh’s girlfriend made us breakfast and asked us about our night of drinking. We laughed and told her about funny things that had happened (minus one major detail) and all was well.

    Brad’s weekend looks pretty well booked this weekend, so I told Leigh that I would hang out with him Friday night or Saturday. You never know where this may lead, I know I’m looking forward to it!

    We’ll see…

    Day 2: Shine Your Shoes

    Ugg. I don’t really hate shining shoes, but it certainly isn’t one of my more favorite activities. I was in the military, but I got some of the other guys to shine my boots for me. In exchange, I folded their t-shirts. Nowadays, I shine my Sunday shoes somewhere around 2-4 times a year. Yes, a year. Looks like that time has approached again.

    This is what I started with:

    The black ones are actually my Basic Military Training issue shoes from well over 15 years ago. The brown ones are my daily go-to-work shoes that I’ve had for about a year and never polished them. Obviously. Here is the progress I made on them:

    They turned out a little darker that I expected, but overall I’m fairly pleased with the results. Now for my black “Sunday shoes” (which have been severely abused over the past few years – I never stripped the old polish off…what you see is 15+ years of accumulated build-up).

    Can you guess which one I did first?

    Now, compare the completed set with the first picture:

    All this was done in about an hour and a half (I wasn’t really paying attention to the time as I was sitting on the back porch watching my kids play in the yard). And I used only the following items that came in a kit I bought from Walmart.