All posts by Walter

Last call!?

If you’ve been watching the weather forecast, you may think this is your last call to rush to the store for bread and milk. The forecast here at Abbot Village Press’s World Headquarters is calling for “10 to 15 inches” of snow.

But I’m actually making a last call for a couple of real estate courses I will be starting soon. Both will have workshops in Augusta.

The Sales Agent Course Workshops are held on four consecutive Saturdays beginning on March 2, 2019. This the course you need if you want to get started in real estate. Since there’s some online work you must complete prior to the first workshop, you’ll need to register PDQ (pretty darn quick). You can do that here!

The Associate Broker Course Workshops are held on four consecutive Fridays beginning on March 1, 2019. This is for those who are currently licensed as Sales Agents and it too includes some online work you must complete prior to the first workshop so register soon. You can do that here!

There are, of course, additional options and opportunities… you can always . And if you have questions you can always send me an email.

There’s life after real estate! Check the teaching schedule for Substitute Teacher and Suicide Prevention Workshops… Think spring! Think learning! Think!

Making Change and making change

You don’t have to know me too well to know that I have a great deal of respect and interest for Amish Folks. In fact, there’s a chapter in Small People, Big Brains based in part on my experience with a young Amish girl in the Lancaster, Pennsylvania area. It’s about, well, “Making Change and Making Change.”

That chapter was recently posted (with permission, of course) on the website Amish America. Amish America is a great site for those who have an interest in the Amish. I’ve been visiting and commenting on the site for a few years now and have become acquainted with Erik Wesner, the site owner and manager. While sharing some thoughts recently on the value of tradition, he expressed some interest in posting the chapter.

So you have the opportunity for a twofer! You can read the chapter and explore some things about the Amish both in the chapter and on the site. It’s included in a post that starts with some interesting photos from an Amish clock shop and a William Penn Land Grant Document… just click this link and keep scrolling down.

Got Milk? Got bread?

On Friday, I assured the cashier at the grocery store I was there just to pick up a few things, not because of the storm forecast. Things were busy so we couldn’t have a long conversation but it would have been an interesting one.

Folks started worrying about the storm coming on Sunday nearly a week before it was predicted. I’d started receiving emails from students of adult courses starting a week after the storm. “What happens when it snows?” I was tempted to reply, “The ground turns white.”

Maybe age creates perspective or at least some relative “mellowness.” I tend not to worry too much about some things. I’m not bragging. Some might say I’m apathetic. But worrying about a forecasted snowstorm isn’t a priority for me. I like the idea that we each have a worry box that will only hold so much. So when something gets added something else gets taken out.

That’s meant to demonstrate that worrying is ultimately about choices and priorities. If I’m going to worry about this storm, I’ll need to stop worrying about something else… or at least move that something else down the priority list while I run to the store for bread and milk.

While considering this, it was strangely ironic that Seth Godin’s daily blog post included the observation, “Run out of chocolate, and that’s a shame. Run out of oxygen and you’re doomed.”


“Run out of chocolate, and that’s a shame. Run out of oxygen and you’re doomed.”

Seth Godin

Perspective—there are times when it needs to rise to a level of consciousness. As the storm started, one Facebook post that caught my eye was by a mom who had picked up her kids from an activity. She was announcing how bad the roads were. A friend commented, “Be careful but get home quickly before it gets worse.” She replied that she and the kids were headed home but needed to stop at the store first. I wondered why. Was it for bread and milk?

While it’s become a joke, people do try to make sure they don’t run out of bread and milk by “stocking up” when a storm is predicted.  

While it makes sense to plan and prevent, Abraham Lincoln is alleged to have observed that he’d crossed a lot of bridges in his life but he never crossed one before he came to it. I wonder, if he was alive today, would he rush to the store for bread and milk if a storm was forecast?

If we’re stuck in the house and can’t get to the store for a day or two how bad will life be if we run out of bread and milk? If we do, it will be a shame. But we won’t be doomed.

Worry can be positive because it protects us as long as we keep our worry in perspective. But we do well when we understand that worry is an emotion or feeling. Our feelings can affect how we think. But how we think also can affect how we feel.

There’s a third component to consider. The “doing” component. We are perfectly imperfect human beings so the thinking, feeling, doing stuff tends to overlap and can get complicated. One of my fundamental beliefs is that because we are human beings we have the magnificent ability to get the three components working together.

At school, when we want the kids to engage in what’s called “higher levels of thinking,” we’ll sometimes say, “Let’s put our thinking caps on.” The kids then join the teacher in placing an imaginary hat firmly on their heads, then pretending to buckle the chin strap. Unfortunately, we seem to stop using the technique after second or third grade.

When we start running it’s easy to forget to think. We might end up letting our emotions get the best of us. That will impact how we think and what we do. You’ve heard of people being paralyzed by fear. How far are the emotions of worry and fear separated?

So today is Sunday and the weather outside is frightful. Most of the churches have announced no services today. Emergency services folks are encouraging us to stay home. Even the local McDonald’s is closed—is that scary? I’ll bet it will be even more difficult than usual to order a pizza to be delivered.

But it might just be a good day to spend some time considering how you think, feel, and do about things. I hope you’ll discover the possibilities. There are a lot of things we can’t do because of this storm. But there are a lot of things we can do, too. We could worry about tomorrow, particularly if we’re low on bread and milk. Just remember, that’s a choice.

Twas the week before Christmas…

I count myself fortunate when I get to spend some time at school with the kids as Christmas approaches. Admittedly, it can be a bit crazy as energy levels are high and the kids are “wound up.” But I try to enjoy their energy and stay focused on the tasks at hand.

One of the questions I had during my most recent assignment was a bit different. “Mr. Boomsma, how do you make the letter “o” in cursive?” It’s not as easy to answer as one might think but I share it for those who complain the schools aren’t teaching cursive any more. (It turned out the question was actually about the little “hooky thing” that connects it to the next letter.)

The second question was a bit more difficult. A fifth grade boy was not kidding–the question was sincere. “Mr. Boomsma, is Santa Claus real?”

Fortunately, his neighbor interceded, assuring him that Santa Claus was very real. She’d seen him and told the story of her sighting in great detail. However, I should have known I wasn’t off the hook. He looked at me and asked, “Have YOU seen him?” The look on the girl seemed to say they’d both like some assurance.

I’d recently read the news story of a substitute teacher who was ultimately terminated after telling a first-grade class that Santa Claus isn’t real. So like the cursive question, this is not quite as simple as it might first seem.

If it wasn’t Christmas Eve, we might explore several techniques one can use when asked a difficult question. I answered his question by telling him and his seatmate a story, emphasizing it was absolutely true. I will share it with you.

When I was about six, I began to question Santa’s existence. Some of the kids I went to school with were quite convinced “your parents are Santa.” As luck would have it, we were having a “green Christmas” without a hint of snow. So our spirits were dampened and it was easy to believe in something less magical and fun.

To fully appreciate what happened, I need to explain that we lived in a very small town, miles away from any airports or flight paths. We rarely saw or heard planes.

That Christmas Eve announced to my Dad that I was pretty sure there was no such thing as Santa Claus. I reached this conclusion primarily based on the fact there was no snow. His sleigh wouldn’t work.

Since there was no question to answer, my Dad stated, in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “Oh, he comes in a helicopter when there’s no snow.” I was then sent outside to do one of my nightly chores.

It was not the first time I found myself truly torn. I could usually figure out when Dad was teasing but I believed with all my heart that he would never lie to me. Still, his explanation somehow didn’t feel right and I couldn’t detect that little smile that gave him away when he was teasing or joking. It was quiet and cold outside. I wondered if I should continue the conversation when I returned to the warmth inside.

While I was contemplating this, I heard a noise off in the distance… “whomp, whomp,..” Omigod! A helicopter! It flew right over my head, very low, lights flashing! I hurriedly finished my chore, ran back into the house, climbed the stairs two at a time and jumped into bed with my clothes on, pulling the covers up to my neck and pretending to be asleep.

The kids at school seemed to enjoy my story and accepted it at face value. So do I. I don’t really know where that helicopter came from and why it flew over our house at precisely that moment. But I do know that I learned some things about the magic of Christmas and the importance of believing.

Telling the story reminded of another person who was asked almost the same question. In 1897, Francis Pharcellus Church, a former Civil War correspondent and editor at the New York Sun, received a letter from the then 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon questioning Santa’s existence. His answer is not just for kids. It speaks to the innocent joy of childhood and the power of belief. There’s a link at the bottom of this post. It’s important to read it.

My wish for you this Christmas is that you too might hear a helicopter… or hear or experience whatever it takes to help you believe in all of the things Christmas is supposed to be about.