I am old and codgery enough to remember vividly old war stories from the two "big ones" and a lot more that were serious but not so deadly. Fighting on enemy soil is always a disadvantage which is why so many cowboys got shot with arrows and Native Americans got put in casino reservations for reparation of sorts. I remember when black Americans were segregated while us whiteys looked on and were somewhat embarrassed, at least I was. Dr. Martin Luther King is right up there with Jesus in my book and his courageous leadership led to a violent time in American politics with his murder coming not too long after those of the Kennedys. Coincidence? Hmmm..hired guns come in all forms. I do not believe that one Russian immigrant with a single weapon killed JFK on the plaza that day, from a 4th story window? C'mon. I've known too many Jack Ruby types in my life, if you get my drift. I do not completely believe that nobody in our intelligence community could not pick up on the fact that a gang of jihadists could literally fly under the border radar while on a five year mission to take down the World Trade center. Somebody knew and that and it made somebody a whole shitload of money while we started shelling out for the most expensive wars in history and then when the bottom fell out? All the wall street types grabbed their undies and ran to an island where the money was. And that my friends? Is a true story.
My friend Ms Ruth told me tales of losing a fortune during the crash or recession or whatever it was in the 80s. I was just starting my career then and had a baby and work and a husband and OMG...i don't remember most of it because it was all such a rush-up affair to make more money to buy more things. We bought a house while I was hugely pregnant because it was either that or move. It was owner financed and he even put up the down payment. Then one day when BG was about four, the old horseman's house on the hill became available so we sold at a profit and moved out to the hundred year old drafty house with character. A real "fixer upper!" And fix we did, for about six months solid before moving in. I remember painting in the cold and getting pneumonia from all the sawdust.
Our first night here was in April and I was sitting in what is now an office watching a thunderstorm roll over the young green leaves outside. Talk about your wide open spaces! The farm that I grew up knowing every landmark and nook of turned out to be where I have spent the majority of my life outside of work. Even though I'm paid a fair wage for my skills, my salary like that of all workers has failed to keep up with rising corporate profits. It's all been worth it with the inconveniences of living with no reliable help in the semi-woods. Directly across the lane I watch the sunset over the Forked Deer backwater on a pink and blue backdrop. It is heaven and I thank Big Ernie for all the lessons I've learned from this part of mother earth.
I came home yesterday with my therapy appointment about ten minutes out and started playing on the keyboard and just got, well....lost. He called me out 45 minutes later like "Sup?" I mean who forgets a therapy appointment! I assured him that the meds are tweaked and I'm good 'til next week. Lord knows there will be more drama before then. We have a couple of roommates for the time being and there's been plenty of practice so I think as long as mommy can watch movies besides Ice Age we're good to go. There were snow flurries today which didn't surprise at all because it's cold as a well digger's ass. Hope that didn't offend anybody and if it did? Get a sense of humor!
My mama and I got got talk at ease yesterday while daddy was out for coffee with "the boy" like the only one who usually picks him up for his outings. Dusty is 90 years old and has never been in the hospital or taken medicine. He's a senior olympian and retired pharmacist. One of their lunch buddies Mr.Joe died so their wolfpack is shrinking. About five years ago I spent all my spare time in the river bottoms with beer taking pictures. One day I ran across Mr. Joe and his buddy Ernest down there with poles on the bank. Ernest drove Joe around everywhere because by then he was so wore out from being roly poly that he needed a lift. I snapped their picture with the free for Christmas Kodak I got from work and it was a pure work of art. However, now that his service is upon us I can't imagine where to find it. That was a couple of hard drives ago.
I know this is rambly and not always comfortable chatter to be found here. Mom told me I shouldn't mention anybody's name on the interwebs for fear of getting in trouble, God bless her. That's all she's got to worry about except what daddy's doing when she's not telling him what to do.