into dust as we all must go

 

my heart 

full for that one

the one 

he is out of reach

my heart

aches

for the one

he is gone

he was compassion

he was ravenously curious

fascinated with other cultures

he is gone

Into Dust

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..and I won't tell

In the autumnal forest,

Down the crooked lane,

Where reds blend through

orange and into yellow.

In the quietest place,

Where horses are free,

And no one can see.

That is where he waits.

With the softest gentle smile,

he moves in the shadows

of  ancient trees, and the horses,

they follow him.

And he waits there for his love.

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The Day I Quit My Job

I did quit, in a crying fit of tears and hopelessness… and then my boss asked me how I was going to get home, and the company wasn’t going to pay my way home from Nebraska. 

 

Let’s start at the beginning…

I was ready to go first thing in the morning, and wouldn’t you know it – the truck (tractor) wouldn’t start. I called the client and he sent someone to give me a ride. While I was waiting I called my boss so that he could get someone out with a loaner tractor, and tow the dead one back to Columbus, Nebraska (the nearest place with a facility of the company the tractor was leased from).

location of the Cargill, at Ord Nebraska - the green star

The only hotel in Ord, Nebraska at the time was the Airport Motel, which was on the other end of town from the job site. (I hear tell that there is a nice hotel right across the road from the Cargill now.)

I was at the job site well beyond the 4 hours scheduled, what with the truck issues, tow truck dropping off the replacement tractor and returning with the broken tractor.  At the job site I did hearing tests, and respirator fit tests, and (if memory serves) a sound level survey was added, since I was waiting for the replacement tractor… that’s how I got some great photos of Ord, Nebraska from atop the Cargill grain elevator/silo.

 

Naturally my story doesn’t end there… I hadn’t quit my job yet.

The loaner tractor was a nightmare. A real p.o.s.  The gears were bad, and it was hard to shift, especially in the lower gears.  I had another job assignment over an hour from Ord, in Albion.  I had to drive a p.o.s. tractor, towing the hearing van, 65 miles across the rolling hills of Nebraska on narrow, old, 2 lane roads.

By the time I got to the Albion Cargill I had 30 minutes to complete several respirator fit tests on a grumpy group who wanted to go home.  The facility closed 30 minutes after I arrived, the manager stayed until I completed the necessary paperwork and packed up the gear.

Now I was tired, and very unhappy with the tractor, and my plans for the evening were for shit. I had hoped to arrive at the next job site in daylight, so I could find a small factory in the middle of the corn fields. No such luck. The tractor refused to cooperate, making it take longer to get another 55 miles in the dark. 

view of the sand hills of Nebraska, Ord, NE

On top of everything I lost a filling and was going to have trouble chewing anything.  I made it to the hotel, and thankfully there was a huge parking lot that I could turn the tractor-trailer around in and leave it facing the direction of the exit for my 4:30 a.m. departure. (Yes 4:30 a.m. such was the nature of the job, and having to process testing on the schedule of the client.)

After checking in to the hotel I walked across the road to a diner, and perused the menu.  There didn’t seem to be anything on the menu that didn’t require chewing,.. damn.  I chatted about it with the waitress and ordered a lemonade.  It didn’t appear that I was going to get dinner at the diner, and they were getting ready to close for the night.  I was near tears as I finished the lemonade; I remember the look of concern from the waitress as I paid for the drink and walked out.  I was full on ugly-crying by the time I got back to the lobby of the hotel.  There were several people in the lobby, and not one of them appeared to notice me. I made it to the top of the stairs and across the landing (open to below) and before I could get through the hallway door I started to sob loudly.  I continued to cry out loud the rest of the way to my room, not caring who heard. (Doors opened and quietly closed in my wake.)

Finally in my hotel room, I opened a suitcase and took out a pudding cup, the only thing I had that didn’t require chewing.  And then I called my boss, Mark. I led with “I QUIT”, my voice quivering as I was still crying. I didn’t let him interrupt until I was done telling him my tale of woe.  Crappy loaner tractor, bad tooth, late arrival, no dinner…. I fucking quit.  And then Mark asked me how I was going to get home from “Podunk” Nebraska since the company wasn’t going to pay my way if I quit my job. And who did I think was going to get there by 4:30 a.m. to take over for me.  I was all “fuck you” about it (knowing that I could get away with saying that to him, because he knew how upset I was, and he was not unsympathetic about it, just realistic.) So, I told him, “FINE. I’ll quit later.”

And it doesn’t really end there…. I took a shower and got about 4 hours of sleep….

Then, at 4:00 in the damn morning I started the p.o.s. tractor and set out to find the job location in the pitch dark of the countryside.  I drove past a road, couldn’t see the sign in the dark, stopped the tractor-trailer on the deserted road, and got out with a flashlight to walk back and read the street sign.  Sure enough that was where I was supposed to turn… onto a very narrow, barely paved, road.

Back in the tractor I started to back the rig down the road. That’s when a vehicle came along and a man got out and asked if everything was all right. He told me that it was the road I needed to be on, and helped me back up far enough to make the turn.  Then he explained to drive “about a half mile, to the end of the road, and make a left turn”, and from there I should be able to see the floodlight shining on the front of the factory building.

So, I did make it to the job site on time, and continued to work.  When I was done there I had to drive about 150 miles to get the trailer to where it’s original tractor was being repaired.

Oh, I could go on… I got the vehicle parked, the tractor disconnected, and waited for a cab…. on to the next adventure. Oh yeah, I worked for that company for another 5 years… so much for quitting my job.

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death of a personal era

 I hope that I can get my "mojo" back.

An era ended with the damned covid... the cafe I loved was closed, like everything else that was considered "non-essential".  When it opened again there were new rules in place,... at first the new rules were state-mandated: a time limit of 2 hours was set in place. And when the state stopped interfering the cafe owner decided to keep the restrictive time limit.

My creativity was often inspired during hours long cafe sessions... I could see out the windows, and eavesdrop on the coversations of strangers.  That truly led me to be creative and write hundreds of blog posts in just a few years of sessions at the cafe; most of which lasted in excess of 5 hours.

I haven't been to the cafe in months.  Something else led me to library for the stronger, more reliable internet connection....

The library just doesn't do it for me. I am isolated in a room with no window to outdoors, and no fascinating conversations to eavesdrop, no interesting people to observe. 

(no little boys to climb up and give me a spontaneous and much needed hug)

I miss that time. I miss that feeling.  Even though it was a very tough period of my life employment-wise - unemployment and low paying jobs....

Here's to new chapters and new experiences.

Age of Wonder

 

link to song The Good Life

He was born in 1901, in Evanston, Illinois.  I was with him the night of July 20, 1969 – that’s when Neil Armstrong became the first person to walk on the moon. And dad was over the moon about it.  As we drove home my daddy uttered the silly suggestion that he could actually see the men on the moon as he drove along.  I told him not to be such a silly person.

link to article about the moon landing

Years later it finally dawned on me just how exciting that was for my dad, who was born before the Wright Brothers flew for the first time. My dad who remembered Halley’s Comet from 1910.  A man who never in his 70 years flew in any type of aircraft.

The advances that man made in those 70 years a nothing less than mind-boggling.  When he was born in 1901 my dad’s life expectancy was about 48 years.  They didn’t have what we would consider healthy lifestyles in those times… daddy was a smoker, and the whole family were drinkers.  They ate fatty foods, and didn’t know what cholesterol was.  Daddy liked bacon, dessert, sugar on his fruit, and a lot of butter on his bread -especially if that bread was fresh-baked.

Nearly everything we take for granted today came up in the Twentieth Century. The prevalence of the automobile: my dad drove a Ford Model T automobile when he was 15 years old – his father’s car. By the time I was thought of dad got a new car every couple of years; Pontiac’s until 1965, then Oldsmobile’s.  

The telephone, without a party line, was a marvel.. My dad did not use the telephone. I remember that one time dad answered the phone, found out what the call was about, and then turned the device over to my mother.  His mind would be blown to think that everyone now days carries a phone in their pocket. –never mind the internet…

My dad listened to programs on the radio every evening, The Edge Of Night, The Shadow, Fibber McGee and Molly,…. And countless others… When the radio programs switched over that new-fangled device: the television, my dad went right out and got himself a television set so he wouldn’t miss an episode.  What a marvel television was,.. and the tv was on all day long in our home.  Dad watched tv in the evenings – a part-time couch potato before the term was coined… dad was often in front of the tv until the end of the broadcast day – sometime in the wee hours of the day.  Many the time I heard the National Anthem played signaling end of broadcast, and then the dull hum of the test pattern.

From the other side- here in the Twenty First Century, it is equally mind boggling to think that they had no television, cars were only for those with means, many homes did not have telephones, there was no television…  and entire generations survived just fine.

We Didn't Start The Fire

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Signs

Many years ago I had a trip planned.  This person I knew wanted visit a relative in Hawaii, and I was asked to be the companion traveler.  Who would not pass up a “free” trip to Hawaii, especially if you’ve never been.

But what happened was that my mother died 3 days before we were to leave on the trip.  Everyone I, spoke to said, “you’re still going to Hawaii, right? Because she’d want you to go.” So I went. I went because she knew about the trip and, in the way we had of teasing each other, it had occurred to me that she “went with the angels” because it was the only way she could go with me.

And the coolest thing happened: we visited an ashram, where people of many faiths had come together to live and meditate… and they had a beautiful garden,… and in that garden it happened.

A monarch butterfly appeared. And I thought to myself “she’s here”, thinking of my mother. That butterfly fluttered it’s way all around the beautiful garden, within the surrounding trees, a large somewhat circular area. It took my breath away, as I turned slowly, following the progress of the butterfly. It made me feel so happy, pleased, euphoric…  monarchs were her favorite butterfly.

[Monarch butterflies are not common in the islands.]

And that’s not all… a few days later, returning from the beach at the hotel, I paused in a clearing and there, amongst the palm trees and native plants was the monarch butterfly again.  It fluttered around me and went on it’s way. 

Thank you, mommy, for sending me signs.

butterflies are free song

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at the library

 there are few spaces of greater peace for me than the library.

Ever since my first visit to my hometown library,... the library is a place of peace and awe to me.

I am still awestruck at all the books, together in one place... and yet only a fraction of what has been published through the centuries since the invention of the printing press.

It's like home. Cozy, temperate, with lots of places to sit and peruse the bound copies.  I have memories of wandering through the stacks. Stopping when I found a topic of interest then, arms laden with books, heading for a reading carrel... oh the interesting things you can find.  I could get lost for hours, no days....  

Books have been the one true, satisfying constant in my life. 

My earliest memories of books in the living room of our house, from the time I could understand anything at all....  I was given access to children's books as a small child, and taught to respect - not to do any form of damage to the books. My mother enrolled me in a book club, so that I got a book in the mail - addressed to me - every few weeks.  She gave me a book about phonics that was geared to young readers, and I could not even read at the time, but I would sit for hours looking at the pages.

Later in life, traveling for work, with time to myself on the weekends... seeking out used bookstores, just to soak in the warm feeling and the scent of old books. Whiling away the time browsing through myriad and miscellaneous titles.

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