No time like the present to start again. Hunkered down waiting for the remnants of Hurricane Patricia to show up and Drown us tomorrow night. I'd like to say I missed those big assed thunderstorms but I'd be lying. Guess this one is supposed to be the strongest one ever. So I guess I will bring up to speed what is going on in our life.
The past few months have been busy. Construction, cleaning and at sixty one years old I am still putting my shoulder to the wheel- (literally) of moving heavy shit. Moving all of the accumulated stuff out of the house to be sold or rented, for family members living in other states. The consequences have been reigniting old popping a cracking knees. Yes I said both of them. On a side note, we attempted unsuccessfully several times to acquire a really cool old house in Ingleside these past few months and learned once again, corruption is everywhere. I could go into more detail but the audacity of some of these folks is truly amazing. Scars have taught us (me) one cannot fight every battle. Quickly lick your wounds and move on. Lisa and I have been dealing with many issues. Not all of them pleasant. And therefore, likewise will not be aired here.
Said goodbye to a Past life. Won't be doing much of this anymore
We did have a great time with the grand daughter seen above. Awesome, isn't she? And after five days of driving, actually for the most part took care of all the crap (literally) complicating our lives in Idaho. Loaded it up in a big ass trailer and hauled it to Texas. Didn't cut family ties but the ultimate goal is to get back into travel mode. Mucho stuff I wanna see and do before I croak.
So we blew most of our seed money to upgrade our transportation and it will be awhile before we are able to look into buying again, pending the house sells, or somebody hits their numbers. Hey, it can happen. But damn, it's got real leather interior and was rather a pleasure to make the 2000 mile drive back.
Ta Dahh !
Danny and Leya had been looking after our trailer and paying our rent while we were gone, But one tends to find out why these things were never meant to be lived in full time. Buncha stuff didn't work at first, particularly the AC, which was probably twenty years old. So I went with the least ghetto option and found an online deal for an 8000 btu portable compact roller job by Koldfront. It'll last until I can get back up on the roof and fix and replace. Believe me, I'd gone with the trailer trash window unit rather than one more night of ninety plus 89 percent humidity. That there is miserable.
So we are sitting, in the probably mostly vain hope of making some money in the Oil fields. But one would have to be in a coma not to know that business has pretty much died away. The consolation is that gas down here runs around 1.75 to 1.90. Still quite eerie driving through the Oil Patch noting the activity has decreased to about 0
Did I mention that my wrist and ass still hurts from that fall at HEB? Anyway, somebody from Corporate called to inquire about my health about a week after I wrote about it. In the best concerned crisp texas drawl reminiscent of Dolly Parton in Nine to Five, she asked how I felt. I decided what the hell and disclosed every single twinge of pain I had experienced the past week since. No, nothing about my bowels. I'm not that rude. Then I asked her what she thought? To her credit she stuck to script which mostly assumes that I want a million bucks and they don't want to give it to me. But they are really sorry, or she is anyway. I mulled upon that a few minutes and decided to hang up mid call. Don't get me wrong, I am a big fan of HEB stores, just these rich corporate bastards could either put in softer floors or pay folks to keep shit clean. I mean it damn it.
I have discovered some revelations about myself. One that I appreciate music and have dedicated my life to learning the harp. (That's hipster for Harmonica) Well, couple of minutes a day, (here and there) anyway. I have found that the area cats are very appreciative of my efforts. I take progress where I find it. My rendition of the Doobie Brother's Long Train Running seems particularly popular. Really, really popular.
Second, I have written three short stories over the summer. And re wrote em and re wrote em and re wrote em and re wrote em and..... Anyway, I've been kind of immersing myself into some of Stephen King and Hemingway. The first is too damn scary for me, the second puts me straight away to sleep after twenty minutes. I could take drugs and "think" that I had talent, but these guys brilliance is more or less unequaled. But below them are a hundred thousand authors, that well, are not that far below. Myself, meh. But I have sent a couple out to a couple of the zillion online and print magazines and even a podcast. So I sit patiently waiting for my rejection letters. I'm hoping that my one chance lies in that somebody will recognize what a scary place my brain is and that I actually have to live in there....alone.
I'm ashamed to admit that I paid little or no attention growing up that there was a huge Japanese Internment camp less than twenty miles away. Didn't visit it until my sixties. This camp had over ten thousand internees living in Tar paper shacks, when the temperatures ranged from minus teens to a hundred and some. Japanese Americans mostly lost their homes and belongings and were railroaded to this place in paradise amidst the Sagebrush near Twin Falls. By all accounts endured stoically. And thousands joined to fight in the war. For those that are clueless as to what a tarpaper shack is, think a frame of two by's with loose fitting pine boards tacked to them, all covered by tar paper. No insulation, nada. Eight feet of snow outside or a hundred degrees and dust. This was a big deal folks. These were American citizens who went on to prove themselves over and over. It's humbling. This stuff could happen again. We took a slew of pics but here are a few.
I confess that sometimes I tend to focus on downsides more than upsides until Lisa reminds me of some of the out and out great times we have had the past few years. The great times to come and the great kids and grand daughter we have. As well as for better or worse, we live in a time when great things are happening. Probably more than any time in history. That man may be on Mars in less than twenty years and I'll be what, less than fifty That friends and neighbors is amazing.
I apologize, kind of , to anybody that I might have offended with my politics. But really, is it that hard to just agree with me? Seriously, rather than being mad at me, just agree with me. That's what I would do.
Anyway, returning to Idaho I found that Mom and Dad are both in their mid eighties, still alive and awnry enough to boot. Hell, there's hope. I think Ninety is a sure thing with a hundred not out of the question.
I'd like to wish Mooster a happy birthday. Second one he missed by dying. Schmuck. We'd get together and raise a few birthday brews sometime in between to celebrate. Damn, I just realized that was what we were celebrating all along, our birthdays, all year long. But I gotta say, love ya and miss ya man.
But for now, I am picking tiny little ants out of very private body areas. Most times not before the buggers have injected their tiny little fangs in me. Getting reacquainted with these big ass Mosquitoes again and contemplating what tomorrow's temps are going to be while an airborne Ocean is headed this way. That's what CNN and the Weather Channel seem fixated on.
So I'm going to stop drinking the very strong Coffee that I make and poor myself a glass of cheap wine. Cheaper than the kind I usually drink because for a while times are gonna be lean. I noticed also that when drinking the cheap stuff, for some reason, I probably should not be near a keyboard. Expensive OK. I find that I am quite brilliant and witty with any brand costing more than eight bucks a bottle. Cheap not so good.
Arvwah
( That is incredibly funny, Blogger says I misspelled arvwah, how the hell is it supposed to be spelled?)
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