Sunday, April 29, 2007


I've had a lot going on lately, so I haven't been on here to write anything for awhile. I'm currently working on adding a deck to the back of the house, and at the same time trying to burn off the old house at our property. As usual, I looked at the deck plans I was given and decided to do things "Tim's way". Now I'm in the process of undoing Tim's way and following the plans.

Not much else going on... starting to get ready for Nathan's graduation. That's a big expense and I'll be glad when it's all over.
That's about all. Hopefully I'll have something worthwhile to write about next time.

Friday, April 20, 2007

I Sense a Disturbance in The Force

What a gorgeous day outside. Sunshine, clear skies, warm temperatures... the kind of day I've waited for all winter. So why don't I feel like going out and doing cartwheels and whistling a cheery tune? I don't know. Although I love days like this, there's a part of me that holds back the exhilaration that I should be experiencing, as if bracing for something unpleasant to come by and ruin the day. I feel much more at ease when there's a blizzard or a downpour going on outside. At least I can say to myself "It can't get much worse than this", whereas on a blue sky day like today I tend to half-expect something like an earthquake or a meteor strike to throw the world into a frenzy. BUT... that's just a small part of me that thinks like that, so I'm going out and enjoying the day. Hope you do also!

Ok, just as I'm finishing this my day gets crappy. I know one reason I can't fully enjoy the summer weather and it just rolled past the house. The ice cream man who comes out on these days and drives aound town all day playing that SAME DAMN TUNE ALL THE TIME!!!! I really feel the urge to go out and rip the speaker off his truck, that's how irritating it is! Ok, I'm done now. Sorry about the cursing.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Friends of the Family

My parents were friends with a family who lived at the other end of the county, in the largest town in the county. This was a very poor district, and still is today, with many people unemployed and no work to draw anyone to the area. The largest town, the county seat, has never had enough of a population to qualify as a city, and a lot of it's citizens are on government aid, as was the family we knew. I don't know how my parents ever came to know them - that happened before I was born - but I was always uncomfortable around them. They were a large family, in number and proportion, all with red hair, freckles, and smelling of sweat and rotten tomatoes. I remember that one of the girls was different from the rest, in that she was pretty, not as large, and seemed to have a bit of intelligence about her. There was at least one boy, there might have been more but he was the only one I remember. He was a few years older than me, nonetheless I was still expected to go out and play with him when they came to visit.

The main cause of concern whenever we happened to meet them was the father. He was a drunk who had been in jail, didn't work, and was always borrowing money. He had a look of pure evil about him, with bloodshot eyes that seemed to be plotting how to manipulate someone as he was talking to them. I don't know why he had been in jail, but I do know that mom and dad were afraid of him to a degree. Although they never said that, I could tell by the way they talked about him that he was someone they didn't like to meet often, even though they accepted the rest of the family warmly. Luckily, for me at least, by the time I was starting into my teen years their visits were less frequent. The father had borrowed money from at least one of my older brothers that I knew of, and I didn't want to think that he'd be looking me up to get some money to go out drinking (maybe there's always someone like that in your life though,because now I have a mother-in-law who's constantly "borrowing" money for cigarettes). The last time I remember seeing the father was when we were in town getting groceries and he suddenly appeared at the window of our car, making me jump when I recognized him. Mom and dad talked to him briefly then hurried home, seeming glad to be away from him.

I don't know what became of the father, but I did see the family several years later in a store where I was working. They didn't recognize me and I didn't introduce myself. They seemed the same as they always had, but I didn't feel the dislike for them I had when I was younger. I guess I saw things a little differently by then, maybe feeling a twinge of sympathy for their situation of never having a stable father at home to provide for them. They came in the store that day with most of the family intact, so I also felt a bit of admiration that they were able to stay together all those years.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

We're So Sorry, Uncle Albert

There is so much I wanted to get done today, with it being my day off, but the weather isn't cooperating and I have a very lackluster attitude right now, so I think I'll lay in bed and watch the Indians game - providing they play today (they got snowed out of their home opening series, and it's supposed to snow more today). I started burning the old house that's on my property the other day, board by board. It would be great just to set the whole thing on fire and be done with it, but it happens that power lines run right over top of it, so unless I want to risk angering the neighbors by cutting off their power supply, I have to do things the hard way. That's ok with me, but today the wind isn't going to let me build a fire without blowing it all over the place. So... I don't think I'll do a bloody thing all day.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

A Short Nap

Something I wrote after having somewhat of an experience a few years ago.

What is happening? A dream? No, not a dream... something else. I briefly remember that I was working in the hot summer sunshine and came inside the house to lie down for a little rest before continuing. Just a short nap, then I'd go back outside and finish whatever it was I was doing. That memory is rapidly vanishing, as are all memories of me as a person. Death has claimed me. I realize that's what has happened. I can't remember my name, and I know that I had a family, but can't recall them. It's as if my entire life is being sucked down a vortex and all that's left is... my soul...? Is this my spirit? There is no light, yet it isn't exactly darkness that I am aware of either. A dim awareness. That's the best description of what I am right now. I have no idea of how long I've been dead....seconds, weeks, eons? There seems to be no time here.
Gradually, something is starting to happen. Feelings are coming to me. I can remember feelings. The first one is curiosity. Where am I? Is this heaven, hell, purgatory? I can remember learning of those places, although that memory comes like a spark of light, then disappears. Fear. Another feeling that comes to me. Although I do not feel fear at the moment I remember that it was something that controlled my life. I'm curious why that particular emotion is not overwhelming me at this moment. A brief sense of elation comes over me, then vanishes, but not entirely. Joy. Yes, that was something else I remember, although with that memory comes sorrow, and the sorrow overwhelms me, filling my being with regret. I vaguely remember my family now, although not their faces, just the feelings that were present when we were together. I know that the regret comes from failures on my part. I don't remember what they were, only that I didn't do my best for them. The sorrow deepens and remains, and it seems that I stay in this state for a very long time. Is this my eternity, to spend forever in a state of woe?
Gradually, something else works it's way to me. Amid the sorrow a sense of longing is starting to grow. Longing for what, I do not know. Slowly, ever so slowly, this longing starts to overtake the sorrow, bringing new feelings to light. I start to realize what I long for, and I think it is forgiveness and another chance. A chance at... life? Forgiveness from... God? I can remember learning of God, and that He forgives, but thus far it seems I am totally alone, wherever I am. My wants grow stronger, although still not focused. Suddenly I remember Joy again, and realize that is what I've been longing for. I try to concentrate on that emotion and my being starts to change. The void I find myself in starts to vibrate and light, dim at first, appears. The light grow more intense and I sense something is about to happen. The light and the emotion of joy seem to have a symbiotic relationship. I am definitely feeling that I'm headed for something, though I know not what. As the light envelopes me and draws my being into it another emotion, Hope, floods through me and it is the last thing I remember.

Sunday, April 08, 2007


I hope everyone is having a wonderful Easter!

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

A Different Kind of Love

My maternal grandmother lived to be ninety-four. She lost her husband when he was forty-nine and never married after that. She never dated anyone, and scoffed at tries by her family to set her up with any nice gentleman who they thought would be perfect for her. Even though she was a beautiful woman with a way about her befitting royalty, her husband was the only one for her and she lived the last forty-five years of her life by herself.
My other grandmother also lived to be ninety-four and lived the last forty years of her life alone, as her husband died when he was fifty-seven. She also never remarried or dated after her husband died.

I don't know if it's because times were different back then and it wasn't as proper for widows to seek male company or, most probably, my grandmothers had survived so many hardships with their husbands that no other man could possibly replace them as a companion. My mother's parents had worked at farming, which has more than it's share of ups and downs, all their lives, raising six children in the process.
My father's parents had come to this country to start a life and had to endure much prejudice for not being able to speak the language fluently and having different customs. Together they had nine children, only five living past two years of age.

I think there was a different definition of love back when my grandparents were alive. Instead of the happy, warm, glowing feeling that most people associate with the term I think love was making a commitment to someone to stay with them through all the bad times as well as the good. Few people today make that sincere commitment, instead opting for self-fulfillment, and moving on when they are expected to sacrifice part of themselves for their partner or for the union into which they entered. I think the example of both sets of grandparents has had an affect on the lives of my siblings and I. Out of nine children, all of us have been married, with only one divorce among us. Not a bad ratio I think.