Back From Hiatus

     It's interesting how people will make you aware of their talent in  certain field and offer it to you then never make good on it.  I have resently bought my first house.  After 19 years of marrage I finally have a house.  We Bought an Old House that needed some up dates. 

     Many friends made me aware of their ability to do carpentry, electrical, dry wall, ect. Then they said don't worry about that I'll Come over , it;ll only tke me a day to do the job.  Thinking that I don't " have to worry"  I went about working on other projects.  Eventually I Had to figure it all out For my self.  Attaining little if any help from my talented freinds.  I even helped them with their project as up front payment for their help only to be left in the lurch. 

well the result is that I have become a jack of all trades and eager to tackle the next project, though i'm getting a little tired.

WHat are your thoughts.

Captive

Arg!!

I have been laid off for five weeks due to "inventory reduction".  Imagine Five weeks to do what ever you want.  I had great plans of exercising every morning, going camping, kayaking, playing disc golf and other outside activities, but the mosquitos were so bad in the early morning and evening that I'd be swarmed  every time I went out side, even to let my dog out.
During the day the heat is so oppressive that any motion is unbearable.  Walking outside sucks the energy out of you.  Today my thermometer read 108 degrees.  I've been held captive in my home. 
At first it wasn't bad.  I was held up with movies and food in the cool comfort of home.  But I became restless I needed to get out.  Weeds are growing around my house but I'm not sure I want to risk the heat.  The meteorologist warn us to remain indoors.  But I want to be free.  I dread having wasted five weeks in my house.
The one  grace is that I don't have to work in the factory during this heat.  For everyone that does, be careful.

Home Again

             Ken shifted his Bonneville in to park and stepped out. As he closed the door his eyes examined the contour of the car. Memories, long forgotten, of his dad’s Bonneville came flooding in to his mind.  How ironic that after years of seeking the sleekest sports cars, Ken is driving the exact model his dad owned twenty-two years ago.  It is the very boat that Ken used while learning to drive, with the same burgundy body with the dark red crushed velvet interior.  As he studied the car it seemed to ooze with nostalgia.  He could still imagine his dad sitting behind the wheel after a long day at work, waiting for Ken to get in so they could go to the corner restaurant.

            They lived alone after the divorce.  The older kids were making a life for themselves while dad watched Ken, or was it the other way around? They kept each other company during Ken’s last years of High School.  They were more like a couple of bachelors sharing a pad then father and son.  Ken slept upstairs, which the landlord converted into an apartment, while his dad stayed down stairs, a great arrangement for Ken who had a complete flat with everything except a working kitchen.   He could have friends over listening to music in his living room while having illusion of living on his own.  Since his dad had a wooden leg, which made it difficult to climb stairs, Ken had all the privacy he could ask for.

            Looking back, it was the car that held so many memories.  It transported them on countless Boy Scout camp outs, vacations, and other cross state adventures.  In the days before mandatory seatbelt laws, Ken would slouch down in those plush seats and as soon as His dad hit the highway Ken would be out like a light.  The constant drone of the tires on the pavement had the ability to lull him to sleep and some how as soon as the car ascended up the off ramp consciousness would instantly resume function.  It wasn’t till Ken noticed the car could have the same affect on his dad that he began to be more cautious about catching any winks.

            Ken had his own personal adventures in that Bonneville.  Shortly after he had received his license, his dad would allow Ken to drive him to work and use it for the day.  On particular slushy morning Ken had the shock of his young life.  On the way home from dropping dad at work, Ken was a little impatient about the salt truck that was moving far too slow for his taste.  He attempted to pass the truck but caught a piece of slush that sent that rear wheel drive boat sailing.

Instantly, Ken received free admission to the carnival as the car preceded to do 360’s all over the six-lane road. Before he knew what was happening, Ken was facing south on the northbound side of the road and the engine had died  Thankfully it was 6:30 in the morning and there was virtually no traffic.  Ken got out, opened the hood and searched in vain for giant neon on off switch that he could simply flip and be on his way.  He slammed the hood and sat back in the car and stared at the traffic headed toward him.  A light in his head came on, “Maybe I should try to start it again.”  Quickly He turned the key and ‘Vroom’ the engine turned over and Ken drove to the correct side of the road before the oncoming traffic could really put a damper on his driving privileges.

         As Ken looked at the copy of his dad’s car it was difficult to realize that nineteen years had past since Ken received the phone call from the hospital. At twenty years old Ken was ill prepared to hear the news from the strange voice on the other end of the line.  His father had been sick off and on over the last year.  It became routine to take him to the hospital for dialysis.  His kidneys had shut down as the result of complications from a spider bite.

Pain and Pleasure

     The spinning disc came hurling through space as I stood fast preparing for our inevitable encounter.  The orange object didn't veer from it's intended destination.  Being about 15 inches in diameter I felt confident that I could easily overtake it.  I stretched out my arm and grasped my target with a sharp and abrupt clamp of my hand.  Immediately the object was under my sole control.
     With cool confidence I placed my fore and middle fingers beneath the lip of the disc and with a snap of my wrist I flung it back to whence it came.  Back to waiting arms of my daughter whom caught the Frisbee with ease and continued the pleasurable activity of playing catch with her father on a cool July evening.  We enjoyed throwing the disc in many arcs and curves testing our abilities of throwing and receiving.
     I enjoy playing catch with my favorite, and only, daughter.  I'm thrilled to see her enjoyment as she improves her skill.  Though I'm not quite as thrilled when I am reduced to retrieving her misguided throws into the strawberry patch.  A grimace overtakes my face as I am forced, with unsheathed feet, to ever so gingerly wade through the thorny vines to find camouflaged toy.
     Having resumed the game, a few scratched later, I was waiting for her return.  It was a straight shot.  I was anticipating and easy catch, when it began to swerve ever so slightly.  I lunged towards the disc with certainty.  Then I heard the sickening crack coming from my ankle.  Down I went landing in a heap.  Pain surged through my body as I realized what had occured.  From the sound of the crack, I thought for sure I had broken my ankle. 
    My daughter ran in to the house to alert the proper authorities, my son and wife.  Soon my son was coming to my aid.  By this time I had examined my ankle and found no immediate breaks.  I tried to stand and was successful, but I refrained from putting much pressure on my injured extremity.  I surmised that I could have a fracture if not a serious sprain.  With the assistance of my son, for strength, then my daughter with a pair of crutches I returned to my house were my wife was quick to put ice on the injury as I kept it elevated.
     So ended my lovely cool evening enjoying a delightful game of Frisbee.  As the sun set the breeze continued to blow through my screened windows.  I gazed out across the horizon watching a glowing orange disc sink slowly out of sight.