Grumpy Zone

Ordinarily, I'm a fairly happy-go-lucky guy.  A friend at Kiski Camp brought me a board he found in his cabin that a bunch of us had written our names on during youth camp back in the late 60's.  It was nostalgic reading the names of friends - some of whom I hadn't thought of for many years:  Elaine Bischoff, Ann Smith, John Mitchell, Debbie Waugaman, Dwayne Grafton, Patty Dripps, and at least ten more including some I did not know.  Who knows who started this or why we did it?  But, somehow this board became our autograph board.  And there, in John Hancock form, was the name 'Happy Harry Haire' - in script that looked very familiar to me!

Don't get me wrong, I have my down times;  more than I'd care to admit to. My family, especially Debbie, has seen me at these lows.  I typically withdraw when I don't feel happy.  A good walk in the woods will usually restore me to normal.  After some years of marriage, I noticed occasionally that Debbie would say to me:  "Why don't you go out for a hike?"  I began to realize that this was self-protective on her part.  :-)  She knew if she could get me into the woods for a while - I'd come back happier!

There are several catalysts to taking away my joy.

Criticism can steal my joy pretty quickly.  It's probably true for most of us.
Failure robs my good feelings.  Nobody like to fail.
Complaining can put a hole in my joy-bag.  As a pastor, I've heard a fair amount of that...
Injustice deflates my joy-balloon fast!  It also ignites my anger!
When I disappoint others, I get sad.  I guess I'm basically a people-pleaser.

Well, this started out to be a light-hearted blog and it's turned into a confession piece instead.  Before I completely depress myself, let me get to what I started to write about in the first place.

Summer is my least favorite season of the year!  Spring and winter would top my list.  To cut to the chase, I just don't do well when the temperature starts creeping above 80 degrees.  When it hits 90 and the humidity is in the same range, I clearly enter my grumpy zone.  I don't feel like I'm fully responsible for what I say or how I react when I get to that point!  I can be short and distracted - maybe even rude.  I'm miserable!  I can't think straight and you can forget concentrating.  My entire focus is on getting relief or finding the strength to endure the situation!

Family Camp always seems to fall into this time frame!  I told several people this summer that I don't need a calendar to know when to go to camp!  Just wait for that miserable, humid weather to arrive and then head for East Liverpool.  By the way, East Liverpool is in the Ohio River valley - it's like living in a green house!  I know - I lived there for thirteen years!

Well, this week, Kiski Valley Camp is doing a pretty good job of competing with East Liverpool.  Last night while sitting with Debbie in the tabernacle, just as Bishop Kendall was getting up to speak, I leaned over and said:  "I think I'm right on the edge of my grumpy zone."

I don't know if it was intentional or impulsive or her own sense of humor, but within seconds she scooted several inches away from me!

I don't blame her.