Yeah, I know, I'm jumping the gun a bit but do I ever love fall. I just can't wait for summer to done - for the cool night air to come back and moderate the daily highs. It's started already, you can feel it in the early morning air. And about damned time, I say. I'll take a cold day over hot just about any day.
I'm working on my 'snow dance' now - just to be prepared.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Friday, August 04, 2006
Thoreau
"Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind."
Whatcha think of us now, Henry?
Whatcha think of us now, Henry?
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Unencumbered
Such a ponderous word working at cross purposes to its meaning. I feel the weight of many things as though it were tangible and measurable. Unlike Rand's Atlas, I shall not shrug. Besides, some of these burdens actually help support me.
But, some day long down the road, there maybe a time to set aside such. I look towards that horizon as I plod forward... What else is there?
But, some day long down the road, there maybe a time to set aside such. I look towards that horizon as I plod forward... What else is there?
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
The Power of Cripes Compels Me!
I had an eyebrow hair that was 1 - 3/8" long. Pretty soon the stuff will be growing out of my ears. Sucks to be old.
CRIPES!
CRIPES!
Thursday, June 22, 2006
"So, Young Man,
What do you want to be when you grow up?"
That's something I've never had a ready answer for. And here I am, slightly past middle age, contemplating that very thing. I know that while I'm certainly capable at what I do, it has never been something that I particularly enjoy. Certainly something I'm not passionate about - and I really should be.
But it's not in me. Never has been. An objective look back on the paths I have walked will show those chosen offered the least resistance. Don't get me wrong - life's been good to me so far, to quote Joe Walsh. I am truly fortunate and blessed. I just don't like what I do.
Problem is, I'm hard pressed to imagine what it would be that I would want to do - that would pay well, anyhow. A brief review of options shows that there are not many jobs out there that would pay me to sit in isolation somewhere and not interact with people or phones. There were no hits on Monster under the search 'Stump Sitter'.
But before I can get carried away, I have a job to do here. It may well be that the light at the end of the tunnel here is not actually a train - perhaps I'll feel different once I reach the other side...
That's something I've never had a ready answer for. And here I am, slightly past middle age, contemplating that very thing. I know that while I'm certainly capable at what I do, it has never been something that I particularly enjoy. Certainly something I'm not passionate about - and I really should be.
But it's not in me. Never has been. An objective look back on the paths I have walked will show those chosen offered the least resistance. Don't get me wrong - life's been good to me so far, to quote Joe Walsh. I am truly fortunate and blessed. I just don't like what I do.
Problem is, I'm hard pressed to imagine what it would be that I would want to do - that would pay well, anyhow. A brief review of options shows that there are not many jobs out there that would pay me to sit in isolation somewhere and not interact with people or phones. There were no hits on Monster under the search 'Stump Sitter'.
But before I can get carried away, I have a job to do here. It may well be that the light at the end of the tunnel here is not actually a train - perhaps I'll feel different once I reach the other side...
Friday, May 19, 2006
Itch
A small possum gave up the ghost in our garage this morning.
Why he (she?) decided to drop dead inside the garage is anyone's guess. We do have a lot of junk stored there but I'm hard pressed to imagine what it was that might have caught its attention. Hard to put yourself into the mind of a possum - especially a dead one.
I grabbed a few plastic grocery bags to scoop him up then paused as it occurred to me that he might not be dead, that he might be, well, playing possum. So, after a few scientific pokes I decide that he is indeed deceased and bag him up.
On the way to work this morning I stopped to tank up ($60!! But that's another post) and notice a small bug on my hand. Before I could shoo it off it HOPS away.
Shit.
That had to have been a flea.
The bug reappears as I'm doing 70 on the highway. I try to pluck it off my pants but it hops again - not to be seen again. I know that it's probably still in the truck or left me at some point during my travels this morning. Still, you can't know for sure, can you?
So, of course, I'm itching like crazy this morning - my mind working over time to sense any skin disturbance as though the possum's parting gift were a biblical swarm of fleas rather than the one I found.
Why he (she?) decided to drop dead inside the garage is anyone's guess. We do have a lot of junk stored there but I'm hard pressed to imagine what it was that might have caught its attention. Hard to put yourself into the mind of a possum - especially a dead one.
I grabbed a few plastic grocery bags to scoop him up then paused as it occurred to me that he might not be dead, that he might be, well, playing possum. So, after a few scientific pokes I decide that he is indeed deceased and bag him up.
On the way to work this morning I stopped to tank up ($60!! But that's another post) and notice a small bug on my hand. Before I could shoo it off it HOPS away.
Shit.
That had to have been a flea.
The bug reappears as I'm doing 70 on the highway. I try to pluck it off my pants but it hops again - not to be seen again. I know that it's probably still in the truck or left me at some point during my travels this morning. Still, you can't know for sure, can you?
So, of course, I'm itching like crazy this morning - my mind working over time to sense any skin disturbance as though the possum's parting gift were a biblical swarm of fleas rather than the one I found.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Tick
Some how I've developed an internal clock.
I didn't use to have one. I remember back in the day slapping the snot out of the snooze alarm and doing the fuzzy headed morning math to reason that I still had thirty minutes before I REALLY had to get up. Work, wife and kids have changed that when I wasn't looking. For the past few years, the alarm in my head has been stuck on 6am - regardless of how much sleep I got that night.
For the most part, this works. Early enough to be up and going during the work week. And not bad, really, on the weekend as it gives me time to enjoy some coffee and quiet time before the chaos that is children begins.
The real problem is when I have to be somewhere early. My internal clock knows that the alarm is now required to wake me at 4:30 so I can catch my flight. Apparently, it doesn't like the idea and does its level best to beat that clock. Which generally has me up at 2. It's then that the brain remembers the routine and works out that I still have two and a half hours of sleep: if I can fall back asleep that is.
I didn't use to have one. I remember back in the day slapping the snot out of the snooze alarm and doing the fuzzy headed morning math to reason that I still had thirty minutes before I REALLY had to get up. Work, wife and kids have changed that when I wasn't looking. For the past few years, the alarm in my head has been stuck on 6am - regardless of how much sleep I got that night.
For the most part, this works. Early enough to be up and going during the work week. And not bad, really, on the weekend as it gives me time to enjoy some coffee and quiet time before the chaos that is children begins.
The real problem is when I have to be somewhere early. My internal clock knows that the alarm is now required to wake me at 4:30 so I can catch my flight. Apparently, it doesn't like the idea and does its level best to beat that clock. Which generally has me up at 2. It's then that the brain remembers the routine and works out that I still have two and a half hours of sleep: if I can fall back asleep that is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)