Saturday, November 7, 2015

gi joe

Like the rest of the nation I've watched as his hero's funeral turned into a pack of lies that couldn't be avoided.  I know someone who tried to hire a hitman and he's gonna' be locked up for, like...ever.  He got caught up in the game, which is something that happens when greed takes over.  Law enforcement is a particularly dangerous occupation when dealing with addicts.  Somebody told me the COs smuggle crack up in there.  "Why, I asked?".   Money, was the reply.  It is a model of organization rife with corruption and good old boy politics with lots of bosses and too many Indians to handle.   It is a self perpetuating system where treatment is not a viable option and the local government bounces around the usuals from court to court.  There is Mr. Hal and his bunch, bless 'em.  If memory serves me correctly Judge Lee Moore set that deal in motion.  The sawmill was buzzing with activity today and my old ass is tired from the scurrying.  BG got her nest made while I was working and even got to see her cousin on 'Noler's side, Helen's son.  There's a guy headed my way with a motor for the washer, thankyouverymuch.  If it doesn't leak, we're in business.

Mama's pretty happy until we talk for more than five minutes and then I have to hit speaker for the litany of complaints.  She is dead set on getting Daddy a stone this month and so it shall be.  We can even put flowers on it for Christmas and Easter.  I haven't ever done that, BTW but I feel like it's coming.  My home is filled with sounds of laughter and hope now, a new beginning for this family which separates but always reunites as a tribe, even if only temporarily.  I know so many people who are hurting and don't know anything to do but give up.  I can relate, because I've wanted to many times.

Oddly enough it is my father's heritage that makes me a survivor.  He found balance and  beauty with nature and lived every farmer's dream.  That was major for someone who grew up as a child of the Great Depression.  The war (s) are what fueled our economy and always have.  The man who owned this farm bought it with $$ he made from selling raincoats to the US government around 1915ish?  His name was Forrest I believe, from St. Louis.  As the story goes, he bought the original farm and turned it into a showplace during the twenties.  There were orchards, and a huge pig and cattle operation in the dairy barn and beyond.  Son Johnson helped construct that barn and lived down the hill.  My favorite old photo is of Mr. Ed Wright as a boy posing in front of the asparagus shed that once stood in front of my house.  One of them left a chunk to the Catholic church and an actual priest lived on the property up in front of Mrs. Ferguson's house.  UCMTSU.

Over and out ~

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