Versimillitude

Midnight, somewhere in the Oil Patch stuffing my face with Banana Bread and sipping coffee, again. Lisa is sleeping and I kind of marvel how we just slip back into our schedules. Lisa days, me nights. Almost completely alone here about 80 miles south of San Antonio. Last week I was resigned because of the falling Oil prices that we were all but retired, and our recently contrived Turbo plans placed permanently on the back burner. So we drove some hundred and forty miles to Austin to visit Carl, Loris and Jerrod and basically hang out to get some regroup time. The last time this occurred we were called back in less than two days and whattya know, same thing happened again.

 We're back following a Coil Tubing outfit and feeling lucky. But, to get back here I had to throw some projects together that I had been working on in order to scramble here as fast as we could. Still we arrived here just as it was getting dark and this turned out to be "One of them days". About four hours to accomplish what we usually get done in thirty minutes of hard back breaking work. And in the process of squeezing into our small space the Bronco's little 5.0 started boiling over. Bad Thermostat we found out and with the Bronco disabled we settled into our job. 

 My thoughts are that the day is the harder option but the nights, well sometimes I get to stay up all night, move to another location, repair some item or (as I usually do) the Grocery shopping. Changing the Thermostat out proved to be a bitch but also seemed to fix the problem. Then bed at about two in the PM. The high level of activity with the constant sound of Diesel's, from trucks, generators etc, nor the bells ringing nor the loud greetings from the worker's talking with Lisa kept me from a solid seven hours of sleep. So only now, some four days later am I able recoup. 

 See, I've found nights to be my thing at this stage of my life. I'm busy sometimes but mostly, as in now it's all quiet. Other than for some reason there are a gawdawful number of Coyotes around who every half hour or so set to making a racket. Kind of close too. Think it might set the mood but instead it's just more or less annoying. But it's during this time that I count my own. My nightly activities are not so important as the conclusions that my tired old brain comes too. Sadly, as the axiom goes, had I only known then what I know now plays over and over in my brain. Other "vicious truth's" as my old buddy Ellery used to say:

  That this knowledge dies with us and is non transferrable. Even if we try, our efforts are fruitless because the youngsters, like us in our day, just don't believe us.  (Sad sigh)

 That after a nearly thirty years I finally reached a time when I thought I would retire and do other things. Well, I did and that was over seven years ago and if anything, time flies by even faster.  

 That a lot of folks who have comfortably remained constant in your life, one by one they die off. And if that happens, you are one of the lucky ones. That to be one of the "lucky" ones, the downside is that there are going to be a lot more. Each time will rob you of a tiny little piece, whether you knew them well or not.   And in the back of your mind,  like it or not, everyone is striving for that ultimate goal.  And that is that you are the last one left....if you are lucky.

 Sadly, the only conclusion that answers volumes about questions that arise about one's own life, is that mostly the realization occurs that people are motivated by their own self interests. It's a Machiavellian world out there that one only learns by living in it.  There really is little formal preparation.  Whether it be power, money or fame. It's mostly the attainment of one or more of those goals that accounts for how well or badly you were treated by other people in your life. Or how you treated others. I guess I am talking in an institutional sense. The good experiences along with the bad. Either someone was seeking your good will in order to attain some broader goal, or you were exploited in a manner that helped someone else's ambitions. Or, vice versa. Some tend to be much more skilled in those things.  There just aren't any other answers that make as much sense. And in that vein, one needs to seek responsibility for one's own misdeeds. 

 The above however, does not account for friendship. No friendship, and family is something different. 

 Spirituality exists for me, but not in any of the forms that exist in this world today. It is something that I feel, but cannot define. Yes as I grow older this concept becomes more important to me. 

 Atheists beware. Trash talking religion is one thing. Yes there have been many many bad things that have come about by "Big Church" But there are many many people doing amazing things around the world in the name of religion as well. Tolerance my friends. 

 That people who choose not to have kids, no matter how acceptable that argument is painted, will always regret that decision for better or for worse. Has been my experience.

 And finally Negativity will slowly boil your soul away. I cannot count the times I ruminated on an event where everything didn't just turn out perfect. While putting the countless blessings I have to the back of my mind. In those times Lisa has reminded, no slapped sense into me.  Like most women, Lisa really has no idea how powerful her healing abilities are.

And once again if you got this far, there are no refunds for the last six minutes.

And so, no politics, jokes, pics or quotes. 

Dasvidaniya  (And no I'm not a Socialist)


Mike n' Lisa's quest blog UA-20271220-1 ga(‘set’, ‘&uid’, {{USER_ID}}); // Set the user ID using signed-in user_id.

We'll see

So I have had a few ideas that didn't work

"There's a guy who fries Bacon naked."

                                                  David Letterman

I'm ashamed to say my initial default technique for getting things done is through the copious usage of profanity.  This tactic has yet to elicit effective results.  An example, It was mid morning when Lisa and I both heard the snap of traps going off in almost syncrosity followed by an, OK I'll say it anguished squeak. ( Actually twin mousetraps positioned tactically in order to outsmart the little *&^tard who had previously stripped the peanut butter, otherwise known as Mouse Crack from the traps in all of my previous efforts).    Lisa and I both froze,  a grin came over my face followed by various utterances like "gotcha you little *&$er and whose your **&in  Mouse Daddy now?  Won't waste time with all the disturbance this guy has wreaked lately but I was just bubbling.  Anyway these were set under the cleaning cover of the stove where we had heard him the most.  Lisa raised the cover and I expected to see a half flattened Rodent as it should have been,  rather I saw him cowering in the corner with only his tail caught in one of the traps. Not only that, but as I bent down to look, the Rodent looked me right in the eye.  Well shit.  At this time I'm ashamed to say I expressed to Lisa that I didn't want to get bit.  An unmanly gesture I guess but hey, a hero can't be a hero all the time.    So  Lisa produces a pair of Spaghetti tongs which I grabbed and started stabbing at the little *&^tard trying to  grab him with the tongs.  F*&^%ety *&hit, F*&^%ety *&hit as I kept missing with him dancing back and forth within the length of his own tail.  I continued vainly at this a few minutes and then decided to grab the trap with the tongs and pull him out that way.  This tactic seemed to work except some genius Engineer in China decided to manufacture this particular RV stove with a copper wire whose purpose I haven't a clue but to offer this Rodent a handhold, or pawhold as the case may be.  Make a long story short, he grabbed on to this wire with all his mousley might and a tug of war ensued.  And with one "Mousley Heave" he pulled his tail out and escaped into a crack. And just like that he was gone.  I thought kind of lamely that maybe he had learned his lesson and would exit the RV from the same way he had found his way in.  Nope I've had to re bait the traps twice now.  Once they had even been sprung.  Couple of minutes ago I heard him scampering across the ceiling. Pissing me off each and every time he makes an appearance.  Seriously, this has been weighing heavily on my mind.  The other night I dreamed of a mousetrap configuration along with the name, I was dreaming remember, the "Hexagon of Death".  Yeah we'll get back on this.

Our emergency NOAA radio alarmed for the first time a couple of weeks ago.  Not to signal a tornado but a severe thunderstorm. It wasn't a fun experience. Immediately a wind I'd guess to be 60mph or more hit and it was a tough time holding the door open to get out. We decided to ride it out in our vehicle in the event we had to make a quick exit and, well I hate to sit blind.  Just like that it was over.  I'm not a denier.  I'm a realist and certainly not looking forward to the crazy weather that it looks like a certainty that we are going to be experiencing here.  Funny, where there likely exists the largest pockets of denial are also likely to experience the worst weather


"I have noticed even people who claim everything is predestined and that we can do nothing to change it, look before they cross the road"

                                                                       Stephen Hawking

One of my evening enjoyments is to peruse blogs and forums.  Everything from A to Z can be learned in these Internet places.  From working on generators, or find the best TV stations using your smart phone, monitoring emergency radio traffic  to working on your own vehicles; to the best place to have lunch in say Cuero, Texas.  Political Blogs, RV Blogs, Gate Guard Blogs,  Travel Blogs, Fat Blogs, Skinny Blogs, Blogs of every race, color or age.  There is something intimate in reading the thoughts of someone else.  And, I'd  further comment some of these Blogs are amazing.  I particularly have an affinity reading Blogs written by younger folks.  I'm amazed at the courage of a young man or woman who travels, often solo to troubled spots in the world.

How to be unremarkably Average

But  phenomena that continues to puzzle me is clicking on an RV blog.  One, say well illustrated with pictures of the authors, smiling at the camera  ( I'll say it here, we are more of the younger set who've adopted this lifestyle),  their family and friends and some of the places they've been.  First, a well written blog tracking the course of a Couple's lives over a significant period will abruptly end without comment. No further posts. No epilogue to explain that maybe a horrible crash killed the couple, or they had become lost at sea during a Disney cruise, or maybe even eaten by cannibals in the backwoods of Tennessee ala Deliverance style. Nothing.  Just a WTF feeling.  Of course the likely cause is somebody just became disinterested but... the mind wanders.

But comically, the thing that also sadly entertains my sick little mind is reading a lot of these same blogs, remember with the pictures of smiling folks in nice campgrounds and restaurants, whose authors go off on the latest greatest fear mongering subject of the day.  Well intentioned writings about getting ready for the latest Zombie Apocalypse.  (my name not their's).  Cartels and Moslems combining to run suicide missions across the Border.  A rumor started by a southern lawmaker that had no bearing to reality.  Ebola infected immigrants making a run for the Border and showing up at the author's RV to sneeze all over them and then blow themselves up.  I'll giggle a bit, click on the next blog button and, with similar smiling and familial pictures, will read about hoarding food AND drinking one's own urine to stay alive.  C' MON.

So we recently made a play to purchase three acres near the water to use as a winter haven.  Didn't work.  And with the price of oil dropping we are finding work a little more scarce and times a bit more uncertain.  The plan is certainly not off the table, but we'll see.

So I couldn't resist.  Heard this earlier today....memories

Mike n' Lisa's quest blog UA-20271220-1 ga(‘set’, ‘&uid’, {{USER_ID}}); // Set the user ID using signed-in user_id.