A lot has happened. It’s been a little intimidating, on several levels. Not only were there fires burning all around me, I’ve been surrounded by journalism – more to the point, surrounded by stories, most of which tell themselves. While I am deeply pleased that I don’t have one to tell, I haven’t been in a position to really rescue anyone, either. With the exception of some overtime, no school for the kids, and really bad air, my family has not been affected - while several thousand homeless people camped about 3 miles from my house. What am I to write about? – pick up a newspaper.
Since I wrote last, I have:
Been on the annual Houseboat weekend. This trip was unusual in three respects. First, we used the other of the two concessionaires that provide rentals on Lake Mead; the more expensive one. It was “Deluxe” when compared to the boats we’ve been on for the last umpteen years. I figure we’re not going back to the ‘old’ boats. . . hedonists that we are. Second, we had 40-50 mph winds on the first afternoon and part of the second day. This is not a good thing when one is attempting to pilot a 50 foot long, 20 foot high pontoon boat with a canvas tarp (read sail) on top. The word that comes to mind for our mooring attempts that day is “dicey”, and we ended up in a cove that was barely wider than the boat was, even against the advice of the guy that came out to bring us a replacement sledgehammer (used to set the bars that hold the ropes that tie the boat to the shore). No story there, it was broken when we reached for it, the first time. Third, on the way back to the marina, we rescued a foursome that had become stranded and spent the night drifting in a small ski boat with no food, clothes to speak of, and no cell phone coverage. Now, this may all look like great blog-fodder, there’s not a lot more to say about it, so I haven’t.
I accidentally stepped on a week-old kitten and crushed it’s skull, in front of my son, and held it, all of us helpless, in my hands as it bled to death. I’ve been thinking that I must not be much of a writer because I can’t adequately describe this event, and how it affected me. Perhaps, someday, I can.
Had my annual performance evaluation at work. Seven years ago, my position as a manager was eliminated to save money. I was made a service technician. In time, my old position re-appeared, and one of my former subordinates now fills it. How would you feel? I’m just saying, it is always an event that allows me to relive the embarrassment and shame all over again.
I haven’t felt good at all, since Lake Mead. After 4 days on the water, we all usually feel the world moving back and forth for a couple of days. It took me a week, this year, including real nausea and near-vertigo. In the ensuing weeks, I have been sharing whatever Emma has brought home from school – mostly intestinal stuff. I’m feeling better, today, but I’m missing a lot of work. Yeah, the aforementioned work. I’ve got to get going, there’s a backlog of stuff to do, and the holidays loom like Sam’s monthly book reports. I’m getting some ideas. Now, if I can only figure out where I put October.
