Lurking Memories

Okay. I have this garage from hell. It has been that way for a long time. In fact it has been following me since I left Fort Meade, MD way back in 1989. Up until now, no matter where I have ran away to, the damn thing keeps finding me. Hiding in my dark and humid recesses of the motor vehicle housing devices know as a garages. Whether attached or not, two or three car capacity or even a carport, the huge collections of personal (supposedly) valuables lurk. Waiting for the day to topple over and make me succumb to a fatality of VBMBM (Valuable Boxed Memories Bodily Mashing). But, today is just another hot humid day here in the garage. I will not succumb to it's ugly head, raised to mock me, every time a weather advisory for destructive golf ball size hail blares over the TV broadcast! I cringe in futility of knowing that our nice car is not gonna fit in it's limited protective cavity. No! Today, I will battle that monster. No matter how much it will kill me to throw away those old hoses and bottles, that I now I'll have a use for one day. The scraps of wood, not quite long enough, but will work for something. Those empty baby food jars for organizing screws and bolts, even though that one coffee can I presently use is working still. The boxes of empty air, used for spider condos, old tires and bike parts. The cool recliner chairs that the mice love so much and bins full of mementos you can't remember where you got them from. Paint cans long gone on to colorful lumps swatches just incase you need a touch up. The quick packing of desk drawers 'cause you know there is something in there other than pocket change and that one screw that goes to something important. You just never had the time to sort it out before when you moved. That one box of old pots, pans, dishes and household goods that are still holding out for the big "Garage Sale". Valuable stuff. Yessiree Bob! Today, I'll have victory! Just as soon as I can find the damn garbage cans and trash bags!! Wish me luck! If there is no post tomorrow, send in the search dogs. I believe I saved a a few dog leashes and a wire kennel loaded with dog toys.

Don't Give Up

Shaking from a hand!

How do I say this one?
A familiar man walked up to me and shook my hand today.
Simple enough. He said,

"A hand shake can tell a lot about a man and what he has done".

He let go and stared into my eyes. His eyes growing smaller and darker. He then walked away sternly. Then it dawned on me! I dated his daughter a few times when on military leave!!

Your 'cup of tea?'

I've been ill two days now. Cannot keep things down. I had some plain herbal peppermint tea to calm the rumbling. It was not as enjoyable as I first supposed. After a bit it felt good, actually comforting.

Then I thought of this:
"Why do people have to add things to tea to except it?"

Suddenly it occurred to me like a frying pan in the face!
(I had a massive headache too.)

God.

"Why do we add all these diverse religious thoughts, traditions, celebrations, rites and rituals, opinionated views, and ever faithful beliefs, to except him?"

Thankful Eye Behind

I've been looking around a lot lately. Checking on my surroundings. Deciding on where to look has been a challenge, until last night. I realized that I have been missing some very important things in my life. Those things that you only get one first impression with.

It is here, you only get one chance to do it right, come what may from it.
I have always kept an eye looking forward for those chasms that will swallow you.
But, if you keep the other eye looking back, you will see all of your friends keeping you from falling in.

Thank you for all your first impressions everyone, thanks for not letting me fall in.
I am honored.

Making the right choice is not yours.

I had a small blip of a conversation with a very good friend of mine. She had questioned her decision with her children with the following question in a chat session:

As parents, how do you know if you make the right choices for your children?

Her friends, who were making all the great remarks we as parents faithfully expect to hear to absolve us from wrong doing, assured her she was doing fine. I agree.

Something nagged at me for that. It was not enough feedback. So I submitted this to answer her question:

You don't actually make the right or wrong choices. They do. It is the results that they produce to make your life more enjoyable/miserable that tells the tale if your enactment of decision for them was sound.

So why do you worry?

Remembering Those Souls

I saw a face today across the parking lot I had just entered. I thought I recognized it. But, no. It was a drifter, one of those lost souls that some people abhor that roams the roads and highways of America, and maybe elsewhere. Long turning gray/brown ponytailed hair, unshaven for weeks hiding a shallow cheek bones. A hunger for food, a hunger for belonging somewhere else. Anyway, I drove up and parked in the spot in front of him where he was leaning against the wall of the convenience store by the entrance. On the ground next to him was an old military sleeping bag hanging out of a faded duffle bag. He wore beat up fatigues and a ratty old beret, green, no, maybe black. I didn't feel sorry for him. Or should have I? When I neared the parking space in front of him he looked at my Montana state Disabled Veteran plates. The look of his eyes went to that of grateful instead of miserable. I got out of my truck and was going to pass by him when I stopped. I asked him if I could get or do something for him. He shook my hand and said, "You just did".
Remember and care for those souls, for they are our countrymen, and we are theirs.