Rick Ryckeley's blog

Tax drooling time

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Fred warned me for an entire year this would happen. Did I listen to him? Nope, and now I’m paying the price.
It’s tax time again, and the next few weeks will be spent by yours truly pulling out his hair — at least whatever is left that Little One hasn’t gotten a hold of.
Running Grumpy Grandpa’s Daycare, running after Little One, and trying to compile taxes all at the same time is ... well, nothing short of taxing. Finding and then reading all the faded receipts from the many stacks of paper someone has piled around our house will be an almost impossible task, even for me, this year. Read More»

Don't mess with schedules

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Mom used to say, “You don’t mess with the schedules of babies or old people.” If you ask The Wife, she would say I fall into one if not both of those categories.
Watching Little One for the last nine months, I can testify truer words have never been spoken. Change Little One’s routine and there’s a good chance you’ll see Purple-Face, and trust me, a purple-faced baby is something to be avoided at all costs. Read More»

Slow poke

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Normally, if you’re gonna break the law, you wouldn’t tell anyone. Not your wife. Not your friends. And you certainly wouldn’t write about it in your newspaper column. Then again, never said I was normal.
The newly-proposed Slow Poke law states that slower drivers must move out of the left lane so those who want to go faster can do so.

That means we should move out of the way for those who want to break the law. The posted speed limit is there for a reason, and we “slow pokes” are just following the law. Read More»

Yep, I’m rich!

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Never thought I would ever see so much money, and yet it was just lying there for the taking. All I had to do was get to it before my three brothers and the riches would be mine.
This was easier said than done when you’re the youngest and only 8 years old. Trickery would definitely be called for.
We stood in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly, frozen just for a moment at the sight. Not one, but two 20-dollar bills tumbled across the asphalt propelled by a stiff March wind. Read More»

The library

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The questions seemed simple enough, or at least I thought they were. Still, the only answer given was a blank look of confusion from the front desk attendant.
Last week, The Wife was doing research at the Vanderbilt Library in Nashville, Tenn., and I had tagged along for the ride. Who knew it would bring back memories from a research trip to another library some 45 years ago? That trip didn’t end well for yours truly. Read More»

Fairytale romance

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To live everyday full of romance, endless love, and laughter are ingredients of days only found in fairytales.
Experiencing the same unconditional love of a sleeping infant in a mother’s arms or the joy received from the whole-body hugs from a child just doesn’t exist for us adults.
But what if it did? What if everyday could be a fairytale romance like Valentine’s Day? Read More»

My worst nightmare

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Think of the one thing you fear the most. Now think of what you’d do if your greatest fear were about to come true. Would you meet the challenge head on or simply pull the covers over your head and hide, hoping it would pass you by? This will be my world in less than a month.
So what has me wanting to cower behind the keyboard? No, Down the Street Bully Brad hasn’t been sighted lurking around our fair town. At least, I don’t think he has. And The Boy isn’t in trouble.

What I’m afraid of, oddly enough, are retired teachers — about 125 of them to be exact. Read More»

Slumber party

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During those seven years spent growing up at 110 Flamingo Street, it’s true that I learned a bunch about life, people, and worldly things. Even so, fully understanding some concepts did escape my grasp. The idea of the slumber party was as baffling then as it is now. Read More»

Toyland, Flamingo Street style

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Christmas is now over and all the decorations are stowed away for another year. Now that the holidays are behind us, the next big thing visiting your home doesn’t come down the chimney in a red and white suit. It’s delivered to your mailbox in a plain envelope. That would be a big fat credit card balance. Or it could be two or even three. Read More»

A pillow fight

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For seven magical years, my three brothers, sister and me lived at 110 Flamingo Street. During that time whenever Dad walked in after work, he was always greeted with two things.
The first was a kiss from Mom. (Later he told me it helped to prepare him for what usually came next.) The second was a list of issues that needed his attention right away.
Those issues, more often than not, had to deal with one of us kids. On a good night it would be an issue with only one of us – and on a bad night it was an issue that involved all of us. Such was the night of the great pillow fight. Read More»