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Halloween 2011
Wow what an eventful day. Such that I couldn’t even document it until this morning. I jammed out getting my counseling re-certification in. I needed 4 hours of continuing ed so I went into work early and pushed through a self study course. Took John to U-Haul on my lunch to get his tailgate installed and went by the post office to get that 10/31 postmark that saved me $75. Next year I am going to be more on it. Its getting to be like filing my taxes only the post office isn’t open until midnight.
After working a little over in a delicate kind of meeting thing I came home to see John with the trailer parked and van loaded and checking his fluids. Which then it really hit me that he would actually be going. Its been a huge blessing having John and the dogs come right after Dad died to ease that transition and though I am happy for him to get his life back in motion I was nonetheless hit by a wave of sadness still able to bring a little tear this morning.
So it goes without saying I didn’t get my jack-o-lantern carved. I ordered pizza and gave the delivery driver candy (plus a tip) and told him he had a great Dominos costume. I had 2 others, little kids from the neighborhood. I wish I would have given them more then a big handful of candy because that is all I got. I’m the only light on the block and anyone with a car goes elsewhere. Apparently people without cars go elsewhere. They were cute though a little Ninja and Pocahontas both around 3, maybe twins.
Halloween also marks the end of the blog a day challenge. I am glad my recent flurry of activity didn’t cause me to lose any subscribers. I unsubscribed to a blog I like mostly but he posts at least once a day and sometimes several and if it feels like a chore looking at my email inbox I start dropping blogs. I thought I had some good stuff this month and it drove up my hits but some were uninspired. Its been good discipline for the National Novel in a Month which I have thought about doing for years and decided to make the plunge this year so I expect faithful reader you will see a lot less of me for a while. I like posting and doing it every day made me realize how much I enjoy it. Will try to get back to you after my daily words are done but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
dogs and domestic violence
Took a long drive today north on 63. It was pretty fall color the maples seem to be coming along now. Smokey rode up front and true to her cattle dog nature barked at a lot of cows. Sheep she’s not interested in except the second glance she gives to hay stacks and picket fences, just to make sure they’re not cows. Horses she grants honorary cow status. I dozed through the wild turkey siting (I wasn’t driving). We were early for our thing so took the dogs to a park in Montezuma. Was pleased to see a lot of old school playground equipment although they had the little plastic crappy stuff too. I immediately thought about walking the dogs up the teeter-totter. Smokey was the only one was game and jumped off when she passed the center of balance. Managed to get all the dogs on the merry-go-round. They were not fans.
Had an interesting experience in the court house (not my case). We were talking about the proven inefficacy of DARE with a lawyer and he mentioned it was a program mentioned by name required by legal statute. He mentioned it was the same way with domestic violence programs (The Duluth Model) which I responded was a good idea because otherwise you’d have people doing all kinds of stuff that beyond not being helpful might be harmful like anger management.
Ran into the lawyer again at the clerk’s window and he was chit-chatting withe the prosecutor about a deal on an assault case where they wanted amongst other things anger management. He hooked a thumb at me and said” this guy says anger management is no good”. The prosecutor asked why and I told her it feeds into the excuse making function. “Honey don’t push my buttons you know I got that anger problem” and that it was harmful in domestic violence situations. She said it wasn’t a domestic case and I told her I still had never seen any evidence it was an effective intervention and that I had had good success with anger issues in my batterer intervention class and told her about this dude I had had come through for road rage after not being helped by anger management several times. No one had ever told him anger was a choice. She said “well he did have an assault on his girlfriend sometime back so we’ll try it”.
Nice being in the right place at the right time. There is so much education to do on this topic. Speaking of, if you’re not familiar batterer intervention is rooted in identifying power and control tactics that are at core of the issue. Domestic violence is purposeful and instrumental, which means its done on purpose and done for a reason. Anger management makes it seem like an accident.
two up, two down
Watching baseball, Yankees/Tigers play off baseball. The kid is pitching and he bunched out Granderson and Verlander was just grinning. Didn’t need any patience to enjoy that half inning. I feel like tonight is our best chance, I’m worried about our five spot, not confident with Fister coming up again or the new guy. Maybe an ensemble. The bullpen is tough and deep. But i would be content if tonight was the night and the next game is a rested Verlander against the next team.
Well, back for a day of work after a long weekend road trip. Busy day and still a lot i didn’t get to. Cooked dinner, spanish rice and peas and carrots which i did with fresh grated ginger and black walnuts, salt and pepper of course. I was a little headachey i think from the 11 hour drive home from the homeland and then dozing in front of last nights game, but rocked through my day nonetheless. So it feels good even as Granderson makes a beautiful catch and we don’t get a couple of runs.
Went for a somewhat whirlwind trip to the homeland. Took a half day on Friday for working the Saturday after my vacation. John is teasing my live blogging baseball. “the reader will have known who won but i don’t”, beautiful. John was a fun traveling companion especially doing all the driving. Smokey sat up front, she likes to scan for cows so she can bark like crazy at them. She has a pretty good eye for them, and can smell them from a distance depending on the wind. She was good company up in the big front seat of dad’s truck. Hard to think about having to get rid of it.
We stayed with Brenda and its nice to see her doing well. She hopes to make it down for her CNA test in Missouri around Thanksgiving. I am going to get an heirloom turkey. I’ve only had bobtail white, you too i bet. Not that they’re not a nice turkey, I’d just like to try something else. Didn’t order one quick enough last year. More salt in the brine Brenda requests, last year must have been a little tough. “Probably just from it being able to walk around” was John’s take.
We got in late late Friday so I was a little out of sorts but John brought dark roast Panamanian. Yemeni today at a light middle it loses something when it gets darker but it needs something. John has been a great roaster and taught me some tricks and is leaving his roaster so i don’t have to figure one out.
Brenda and I went to the market and I was really impressed. It had grown a lot and the pavilion was full. There was a nice selection with some good buys and some stuff I can’t get at home (black walnuts for example). The pineapple bread was crumbly and expensive but the cider was cheap and excellent. Got some beautiful red peppers 2 for a dollar and some this and that’s. Brenda picked up some ground chuck from Dannies and I made burgers for supper with fresh tomato. Forgot to bring pickles but Brenda had some store bought ones.
Called Chad Osborne and he happened to have plans with Chad Olson and was meeting another friend at the Red Coat in Royal Oak. It was fun and enjoyed a white ale and some good company. I had a cuban which was good but not exceptional. We went out for another round after and it was nice to reconnect and Chad and I had a good catch up conversation as Chad napped on the drive home.
Sunday Brenda made us breakfast scrambled eggs (local free range) with cheddar and feta, fried potatoes with the red pepper, and biscuits and hamburger gravy. Good stuff.
Earlier Saturday we went to a nuclear power protest at the statue of Custer that stands downtown in Monroe. There were better then 30 people and a lot of people driving by honked. One person rolled down a window and yelled “go fuck yourselves” which hasn’t happened to me in a long time. No death threats though. Some people like having a job so i’m not bitter.
There was a singer songwriter and some people made speeches and a lot of plants were representing. Detroit and Toledo folks too, Mike Keegan I think was the only one from Monroe. It was part of an international day of action being Oct 1 and all. Mike Leonardi mentioned in his speech that the Trapp Brothers drove up from Missouri for the event and we had organized protests and been pushed over on tripods (not true john was doing support for the tripod guy that got pushed over and was maced and randomly snatched up before he could handcuff himself to the police car had been his plan), jumped off the Martin Luther King bridge, and chained myself to that very statue of Custer (actually it was just handcuffs). Saw Jesse Deerinwater which was a bonus as last we’d heard she was in KY.
The protest then caravaned down to Promenade Park on the Toledo waterfront. There were bands (someone out of flint the insurgents or something, very political but fun and sincere and not too cheesy) and speakers (we left during Kucinich, hohum a politician). It was mostly nice seeing people although i liked the occupy toledo kids. especially the one who can’t keep her hands off dogs.
After that we went to Costco so John could get the dog food he likes. They don’t have one in Columbia. I picked up a few things and it wasn’t as overwhelming as that type of thing can be. I owe it more to sleep deprivation and protesting all day outside more then the horror of the big box. Toledo waterfront is beautiful, there are some cool statues and the new bridge is a sight.
Couldn’t believe I jumped into the Maumee off the old Cherry Street Bridge. The water was cold, I didn’t even check the temperature just asked someone who’d done it how late in the year he went. We got picked up by a sail boat to avoid unpleasant conversations with the police and fire department and such about the wisdom of such things. The boat could only get so close being a sail boat coming up on a bridge (hadn’t thought that through) and we had to swim quite a ways out to get picked up. Joe got cold and was having trouble swimming. I held him up and swam him the rest of the way in. John Schwartz was crewing and I can’t remember who else pulled Joe in and when it came time for me to climb out I realized I couldn’t move my legs. Only been cold like that a couple of other times but don’t want to get started on knocking your core temp out of whack. I’ve got way to many stories and though dreary it wasn’t too cold.
We had a big family dinner on Sunday at Bob and Pam’s. Pam made pot roast which was excellent and Betty made this killer squash/yam casserole with ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, and a little clove I think. Brenda made deviled eggs (with the free range, she gets little ones for a dollar a dozen) which sparked a conversation what mom put in them (mayonnaise, yellow mustard, salt and pepper was the majority opinion with a little paprika on top). I make mine more daring but they were good. Bobby and Julie brought an apple pie from a local orchard that was killer (it was the walnuts). Sparked a conversation about Smuckers and I’ll try to get Brenda to bring down a blueberry one for Thanksgiving. You should come, looks like there is going to be a feast (i got extra guests last year by posting the menu).
The star of the show was Mr. Nolan Lagrange all of six weeks old. He holds his head up which is about all you can reasonably expect. Struck me as a serious sort, thoughtful, to the extent all of those little neuronal firings are organized into such a thing. Had good conversation with Bobby about consciousness development and I am glad he and Julie are watching.
Its nice to see everyone doing well. Shane came by and had pictures from his hunt in South Africa. i want to see his stuff when its stuffed. All the meat goes to market. They give discounts on shooting stuff they need for the market. Charge by the critter. He forgoed a giraffe for example for some big thing with horns.
The drive home was a little trying. Hadn’t recovered from the drive up. Enjoyed some WJR. They got some welfare reform so they had the Great Lakes State social services director talking about throwing 11,000 families off welfare for their own good because people get dependent on a check don’t bother learning how to read. lazy shit heels. The next guest was a Yupper congressman talking about oil companies already paying their fair share. All this without irony.
Also caught an hour of Terri Gross interviewing a big wig in the New Apostolic Reformation. A lot of stuff on spiritual warfare and getting control of the guvmint. Scary stuff, very middle ages.
But finally made it home. Bases loaded in the 8th Yankees at bat ahead four to one. Al Albuquerque to the rescue. Leland plays the match up. Nite faithful reader, go Tiges!
eulogy for my father
Its coming up on six months ago since Dad passed away. I’ve been missing him as baseball season winds down. He would have been so happy seeing his Tigers winning the division and playing so strong going into the playoffs. He admitted to me that it was a bigger deal the Tigers winning the World Series then me being born back in 1968. They hadn’t won since 1947 and he had other kids. He denied it when I teased him about it later but I didn’t take offense. There was no competition in his love for baseball, it was welcoming and I knew it didn’t mean he didn’t love me a lot, he just really loved baseball. Watching it with him taught me some of its nuance. I’m still not really patient enough for baseball but its coming.
I wrote the first half the night that Dad died. It opens very strident and I guess I was mustering gumption to do something different, defy convention. The second I wrote the weekend after and put most of a week into feeling my grief full time. And walking the dog. It was time well spent and Dad had an easy story to tell and I was blessed to be privy to the details.
These words brought me a lot of comfort and I am indeed blessed to have been raised in such away to cultivate them. Dad was really a poet. One of the last things really hit his lyricism, “I’m so tired of holding my eyes closed”. He could be sparse like that, spare I guess is a better word. Well its already a long piece so I shouldn’t put in too much of a prologue, except to say I hope it makes you think and if it brings you comfort I’m glad.
“Eulogy For My Father”
3780 words or so
“This above all, to thine own self be true. “ I am not really a minister and I don’t really want to be doing this. I am a grieving son and I want to be sitting next to my brothers and sisters, crying some, laughing some, squeezing an arm in reassurance, an arm across my back in love and support. I want to hear words of beauty and consolation in celebration of a life well lived by someone who knows and loves my Dad and will tell his story with truth, compassion, and respect, in accord with what my dad believed in a way that resonates with what I believe, with what we all believe. That was simply not going to happen. There is a narrow band of belief that dominates most discourse on matters of the spiritual. If you adhere to one of its dominant strains you might not have even noticed, or only noticed the slight difference when you hear someone talk from another dominant strain. But many of us are outside of that, un-believers or simply un-churched. We patiently sit through funerals, weddings and the like and listen to stuff that is irrelevant at best and often frankly offensive. So if I talk about some stuff that church people feel uncomfortable with just hang in there and bear with me, hold on to what is good. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be a uniter not a divider. Take what you need and leave the rest. But for a half hour at least these words are mostly, for the rest of us.
Mr. John Paul Trapp Senior has a story that is long and complicated. It spans generations, a continent, and is in small part outside the bounds of what the masses of men believe perhaps, at least what men say they believe. Funerals are fundamentally an act of the sacred and need touch upon the ineffable, the spiritual wonder of the transition to the next great adventure, or how else are loved ones to be comforted?
John was never comfortable about talking about spiritual things. When asked what he believed I always described his spiritual orientation as backslidden Christian. He believed in that whole thing, sort of, but wanted to do what he wanted to do. Mostly drink beer and smoke cigarettes work hard and raise his kids right. So how does a backslidden Christian raise his children? He exposes them to church, lots of them, if they want. Doesn’t encourage it or discourage it, but makes it clear he is not really into talking about it. He’d heard enough about it already, he would say. Enough to feel judged, unworthy perhaps; but also defiant, resilient, and able to stand on his own two feet.
About a year ago Dad solemnly informed me that he had become an atheist. What???? An atheist at 73? Who does that? There are no atheists in foxholes the liars say who preach a spirituality of cowardice, of toadyism for rank gain, a theology of threats and bribes.
Dad had been watching the Discovery Channel and had heard about the Big Bang and it seemed a lot more reasonable, he informed me. And the Big Bang is a beautiful and wondrous way to understand where we all come from. Condensed to a single point, a place with no dimension, only location. Containing all the matter in the universe. And then bam, everything there is flying apart in all directions, hundreds of millions of years pass and the uniform layer of hydrogen has ripples and perturbations and clumps coalesce and begin burning through nuclear fusion and stars are born and grow the heavy elements and die and explode and the star stuff keeps flying apart. Bigger and bigger.
12 billion years pass and dirt and such collects and spins around a midsized yellow sun on the spiral arm of a typical galaxy that we like to call the Milky Way, and so is born the planet Earth.
It is a beautiful story in its stark simplicity, and the lesson it teaches is the truly grand scope of creation. It has all the more power for being factually undeniably true. You can generate testable hypotheses and learn more about its nature, that is how science advances. In all the creation stories of all the peoples the Actual Truth turned out to be far more vast and far more wonderful. For when John declared his independence from the belief in god he was not rejecting the God Who Made the Universe. He was rejecting some weird little cartoon god he had heard about when he was a kid. A god who rejected all that was fun and demanded the humorless life of a drudge. A god who judged and made one feel small and unworthy.
I took John’s atheism as a step in the right direction. A rejection of something that should be rejected. And the universe is a vast and wondrous place. Currently in my day job I am a substance abuse counselor and I wrestle with helping addicts find a source of spiritual support when drugs and alcohol have taken control of their life. It is no accident that a chapter in the AA Big Book is called “We Agnostics”. Recovery is developing a way of life that is so positive, healthy and fulfilling there is no longer any room for nonsense, and so it becomes an exercise in serenity. And so they say: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
But what of atheists and agnostics, is sobriety denied to them? Not by any means. I have heard a number of workarounds, Good Orderly Direction (G.O.D.), the program, door knobs and file cabinets, anything to reject the toxic selfishness inherent in addiction. I, a little from the outside, as a treatment person not a recovery person, humbly propose the Universe. The universe is sufficient for the serenity prayer and has the advantage of being self-evident to all. ‘For I believe the universe exists for I have seen and heard parts of it. I have tasted of the summer fruit and smelled the coming rain; felt the gentle breeze as it rolls across the plain.”
The serenity prayer neatly divides the universe into two categories and gives us advice on how to deal with both. First, there is everything under our control. And what is under our control? Only our own actions and those we meet with bravery. Everything else, literally everything that is not our own actions are outside of our control, and so we meet everything with acceptance. The intersection of bravery and acceptance is where we find wisdom. And the universe is sufficient for the serenity prayer. It will hold the things we must accept, it is sufficient for serenity. It offers peace in a time of loss. You can say it with me if you want to try it on for size. “Universe grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
So does a belief in the Universe as science understands it preclude a belief in God? Absolutely not. 96% of Americans believe in God and that included Einstein and most scientists. The universe doesn’t compete with God as creator but is the fundamental proof of the scope of creation and that its source must be vast and mighty. For this message is not one of atheism or agnosticism for I am fact am a believer, a passionate dedicated believer in the God Who Made the Universe. This universe, the real one. Personally I believe that like my body has a spirit which animates me the physical universe has a spirit which animates it. But I know what I believe is not what everyone believes and for today I want us all to reach for common ground in which to lift up the spirit of John Trapp in communion and love for remembrance, celebration, and comfort.
For even though he called himself atheist once, Dad told me that Mom was waiting for him. Dad was on a ventilator toward the end and when they took him off and brought him out of sedation, he told me, he had died, and he told me, with assurance, that Mom was waiting for him. I believe him. It is in her character. It is about all I ever saw my mom do. And so it begs the question if Mom was waiting for him where exactly was that? I can honestly say that dad didn’t care and didn’t put much thought into it. I already said he was uncomfortable on matters of the spirit. He was not uncomfortable in contradiction. And neither am I. The truth is too vast the universe too big to not contain many contradictions. I like to believe in a personal god who cares about me. I like to believe in a universe governed by immutable natural laws that can be known and predicted and depended upon. I like to believe in miracles. I like to believe that Mom and Dad still live still love me and care about me, still speak to me with their wisdom. I know they still live in my heart if nowhere else.
John Trapp was a simple man and when I asked him how he wanted to be remembered it was as a Working Man. He worked hard growing up on an organic farm, though in those days they just called them farms. He was born in the heart of the Great Depression and the war years were lean ones on the home front. But the Trapp family was self-sufficient in a way that now we can scarcely understand. He had to churn the butter, pluck the hens, weed the row crops, feed the animals, there are others here who know these stories better than I so I will leave it at that he worked hard even as a small boy. But he played hard too. Fondly remembered tales of hijinks and adventure, messing around with the dogs, sledding, skating, hunting, how he earned his switchings, his sister Alice and her friends holding him down and kissing him.
But mostly he talked about working. Mowing grass, being the first to get a chain saw and cutting down trees. Hiring out as a farm hand, eventually for his sister Norma and her husband Joe. When the season ended he moved to the kill floor, slaughtering beef, hogs, and veal. It was a short trip from there to being a meat cutter. A dollar an hour until the union came and then he moved up to $2.65 cents an hour. Good money in the 50s and he still played hard. Drinking, dancing, roller skating, shuffle board and pool leagues, convertibles and drag racing; mishaps and near escape. Some reckless driving in Monroe that inexplicably ends with him joining the army. Trained as a mechanic he was stationed in Germany when the Berlin Wall was doing its Berlin Wall thing. There he developed a lifelong love affair with trucks. Most of his army stories though are about baseball or drinking beer. Good local beers with each town its own.
After his time in the service he returned home and to meat cutting, bought himself a brand new 1963 Ford Falcon Convertible, courted and married Frances Eileen Allen. He didn’t care that she had three kids he loved kids and promised to raise them as his own. John still had a little growing up to do but rose to the occasion with his readymade family and tried to be a good father to Bob, Betty and Brenda and three more boys when they came. Dad worked hard and we camped in Lake City in the summers.
Tragedy struck early and hard on this little family when John’s youngest son Dennis drowned in the swimming pool in the backyard. Dad blamed himself as the army had only taught him adult CPR and he later learned it was different for little kids. He drank beer and pitched horseshoes, all four by himself. Eddie Trapp came over and walked with him, no one had anything to say. Dad couldn’t handle family life anymore. He was broken in a way that luckily few of us will ever get to really understand. It was only 7 or 8 years ago that he told me he had finally gotten over Dennis dying. He went on a six month drunk from what I understand I am too young to remember.
He couldn’t stay home and didn’t believe in leaving, John was no coward, so all there was to do was to become a truck driver. He bought a straight truck and started hauling furniture for Beakins Van Lines. He would always point out the parking lot where he learned to drive when we drove through Circle City, as he liked to call it. North America became his home.
He took his first trip and was frightfully lonely. I had the great pleasure of finding and reading some of his letters home to Mom, before moth and rust destroyed, and they were heartfelt and touching. A demonstrative loving side of John I had never seen. On his second trip he threw me up in the cab with him and we were off to see the country. I was three years old. I would stay up all night to help keep him awake and we would talk about everything. I was his confidant, sounding board, and in many ways the repository of his hopes and fears. What an incredible gift to give to a child, your total attention, sharing from your heart. Showing him the country. I am so incredibly blessed I cannot describe. Having such an enriching early childhood in large part shaped who I am today. I was able to learn that people live all kinds of different ways and you can go to places and see stuff.
Dad was a character on the road. He knew this country comprehensively. Everywhere. He gave his own names to the flowers he saw. He knew the phases of the moon and how the stars change overhead with time and distance. He grew to be wise. He learned to instantly make friends. To make the most of a chance encounter. To be real with people. He stayed true to Fran though she had her doubts as she had seen him flirt, a lot. But he stayed true to her in death as he did in life and as easy and convenient it would have been to find another woman to take care of him. Instead he struggled on alone learning how to take care of himself for the first time in his life.
Hauling furniture was hard work. He would work hard all day and drive all night, running hard after the elusive dollar. But he also learned the culture of the truck driver and prided himself on acting as a Professional Driver. Driving safely and courteously, safeguarding fellow travellers, and caring for shared spaces. Looking for opportunities to do someone a good turn. Flashing in trucks when they passed with his running lights a quick flash of thank you when another truck did the same. He was also a friend to hitchhikers and transients, scooping them up giving them honest work and a chance to see the country, starting many in a career.
He helped many a stranded motorist or someone just down on their luck. Early in his career he was the first on the scene when a truck had smashed into a pick up full of migrant workers. There were bodies all over the road the truck driver who caused the accident was weeping and doing nothing. Dad began pulling bodies off the road, living or dead he could not always tell but he had no assurance traffic would stop and it needed to be done. He was a brave man who acted with honor whatever the cost.
Once after he was done with furniture and hauling freight for BJ McAdams he picked up a hitchhiker in spite of the company rule against it because the kid wasn’t wearing shoes. He drove him somewhere, bought him a meal and gave him some money, and didn’t think much of it. Some months later he was tracked down by a private investigator from a fuel slip. The kid had remembered his handle, Trapper John in those days and John was flown in as a surprise witness in a Perry Mason kind of way and exonerated the kid from a bogus charge of armed robbery. Dad did a lot of heroic shit. Stopped rapes, beat men down for disrespecting women and was pulling out his deer rifle out of his truck when the police gunned down a mass killer in a bar he was drinking in. If the cops had been three minutes later John would have taken care of it himself.
He ended his long career, 37 years and well over five million miles driven without a major accident with Anderson Trucking, ATS. Dad loved Harold Anderson, a war hero, truck driver who parlayed his truck and a granite contract into a billion dollar company. He treated John square. They recognized Dad’s excellence and made him a trainer. As racist and sexist as John could be they tried to give him all the women and black folks because he treated people decent and gave everyone a fair shot.
John hauled freight and ATS specialized in specialty loads. A lot of granite and all kinds of big stuff, mining equipment, giant machines, and cranes. It allowed him to be a piece of history. He hauled in granite for the FDR memorial. He hauled scaffolding for crowd control for presidential inaugurations. He hauled a fair chunk of our industrial capacity to the Mexico border and brought back the things we used to make here. He hauled pieces of the space shuttle. He hauled the Disney Parade and towed the Goofy Car in the parade when it wouldn’t start. At the end of his career he specialized in Wind Mills. Technically difficult blades being 150’ long the rear wheels of the trailer were steered by an escort driver. He also loved being part of something good, something for the future. He drove truck until he was 70 about as old a driver as I have ever seen.
Retirement brought some new challenges but also some new joys. He got a little dog he named Myrtle. He had always called his trucks Bessie and his trailers Myrtle and Myrtle followed him around like a little trailer and was a faithful friend when he suddenly for the first time in his life had time on his hands. She was a little dog a chow mix with a leaky heart valve that left her short winded and easily tired. John could relate he was as well by this time. He struggled to pay the bills on a fixed income and could not work his way out of his spending problem like he always could in the past. I made him a deal, I would buy a house if he would come and live with me and help me with the upkeep.
It was a beautiful arrangement that renewed his sense of meaning to his life. Work, that could be done but didn’t need to be done. Perfect for a working man winding down. As my friend Lisa said in a consolation message: “Mike, I’m so sorry about your dad. I know that he has been a huge part of your life these past few years and you will feel his absence every day. You made such a difference to him during these past few years. I could tell that being part of your bustling, friendly household made him feel connected and loved. You took such good care of him.”
As Dad began to decline he began to lose interest in things. It’s a process I’ve seen over and over as people prepare for death. The Tao Te Ching 16th chapter speaks to this and has been a source of strength and guidance for me since my mom was dying:
Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace.
Watch the turmoil of beings,
but contemplate their return.
Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.
If you don’t realize the source,
you stumble in confusion and sorrow.
When you realize where you come from,
you naturally become tolerant,
disinterested, amused,
kindhearted as a grandmother,
dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Path,
you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes, you are ready.
If you wonder why we had John cremated it’s because he’d be spinning in his coffin as I have decided to end with a song. John had to abandon music when he married a woman who not only was tone deaf but could only make tone deaf children. I sing this not only because it is the only song I have written about John but I wrote it when Mom was dying and it speaks to what I believe about these things.
When your wife is dying in the summer time
The ministers go on vacation
The road workers do their excavation
But the truck driver stays at home
Alone with his regrets
He drinks cheap beer and he frets
About his dying wife and his debts
And if he should have stayed on the road so long.
And when your mom is dying in the summer time
The birds still sing in the morning
The red skies give the sailors warning
But the sad boy does not sail on
Alone with his worst fears
He stifles back his tears
He tries to bring his family cheer
As he writes another sad sad song.
And when someone’s dying in the summer time
People still go to the beach
But happiness is so far out of reach
We just all stay home
And we sit alone together
And talk about the weather
And what’s going to happen to Heather
When her grandma dies before too long.
But the birds still sing when we mourn
And with every death new life is born
We’re all just part of the Goddess anyway
So I’ll wipe away my tears
And learn to face my fears
And know there’s a new part of God to hear me pray
I know there’s a new part of God to hear me pray.
Another Friday Night…
Killing time before the Tigers game comes on. I have to work tomorrow so don’t know how deep I’ll be able to get into the game with it not coming on until 9:00. They have a chance to clinch the central division and its nice to end the season strong. I like our chances. Spent some time after dinner weeding the strawberries. They really took it on the chin in the heat wave (probably should have watered them more) and a lot of grass came up in the newly opened space. I especially wanted to get the fox tails, last thing I want is one of this bristles stuck up one of the dog’s nose. Cost my brother like a thousand bucks when it happened to Smokey. Also need to mow, but tired yesterday, and kind of wet today. Got some wild flowers blooming, wish i knew all their names, but the asters by the mail box are especially pretty. Saw more then a few of those in the Nantahalas along with fancy goldenrod, phlox, and a bunch of other stuff i couldn’t ID or can’t remember. There were a lot of these orange pitcher flowers by our second camp site. Even though it wasn’t a legit dispersed site in the National Forest (too close to both a paved road and a picnic area) I was glad we stayed a second night because a beautiful little hummingbird got comfortable enough with us to feed on the orange flowers. It worked its way through the little jungle of them for quite a while. There’s always something magical when they stop by and I am looking to get more flowers in, in front of my picture window and in the back to draw more in. I’ve upgraded to black sunflower seed instead of the cheap mixes and it has drawn a better class of birds. John got me a squirrel guard, a plastic dish that tilts when you put weight on it that has kept out the squirrels and of course the dogs help. Fido has them all running out to the feeder whenever someone opens the back door or yells squirrel. I trimmed up Fido some tonight, straightened up his mustache and got some long spots and some spots that were matted and worked out from his pre-vacation cut. They had been annoying me the whole trip and I was glad to get it done. I had left his little penis hair but it was getting to be better then 2 inches long and John was teasing me so I trimmed that too. He doesn’t care for the manscaping and I can’t blame him after what happened to his balls. I wanted to share more about my vacation but after being back a couple days it already feels far away and long ago. I didn’t take a computer and instead had this great idea of blogging in a book instead. The links are hard but its really revolutionary. I realized I don’t self-censor as much here as much as I thought as my writings for myself weren’t much different, although I would be lying if I said they were exactly the same. Over-sharer that I am I still hold a lot back for the general prevue. I may share some excerpts or use it as a draft maybe this weekend. I have to work a half day tomorrow so no market. I will probably go to Wilsons to get at least some local produce. I was going to wait until Sunday and go to the art/vegetable market at bus station but I want to make barbecued beef and need some sides. Maybe I’ll do carnitas instead and go to the grocery store. its not a bad idea anyway the cupboards are, if not bare, have some room and the fridge is bare. I did make it to the market last Saturday in Franklin North Carolina. It was small but friendly and we got some local tomatoes (not as good as home), a jalapeno, pimento, green beans and okra which livened up our tuna and noodles and our canned chinese food (man that stuff has really gone done hill). We also got a little zucchini bread which was not as good as the ones i get locally (or make for that matter). that would be a good weekend activity, i’ve got a brown banana in the freezer. Franklin was a cool little town though. Caught breakfast twice at the City Diner. Had the Gypsy Omelet which was hash and swiss, pretty yummy and it was cheap. We drove past a place in a strip mall that didn’t have any customers on a weekend and found the City Diner with a lot full of pick up trucks. Pa Miller taught me that was the way to find good eats in the country, god rest his soul. There was also a cool indian mound with some history that it had been an important city of the Cherokee before they got f*cked and they kept the village center on the mound. It was an important battle(the battle of echoe) there where the Cherokee won one year quite handily but got beaten decisively a year later. Would have liked to check out more Cherokee stuff when we were out there, but we stuck to the woods. Looks like its time to call Harry and tell him can’t go to the market and watch a few innings before hitting the hay. Good night faithful reader and sweet dreams.
what’s for dinner
pretty quiet sunday here at leslie lane. the tigers almost blew an 8 run lead to the indians but ended up holding on and getting the sweep. made bacon and eggs for breakfast and used my bacon cook time to call directv about my missing local channels. sending someone out on wednesday.
mulched the roses and its just nice to see things starting to flower and getting to ready to flower as the summer starts to wind down. i was going to cover my compost i mulched with with a couple of inches of pine needles but want to wait until i get some lime to add. i think my soil is sour.
i dozed off in the easy chair so was up early. had a late night with Planet of the Apes which i enjoyed very much and it was nice to make it back to the drive in. the game was a long one and caught a little nap in the middle innings.
decided to grill out, mostly stuff from the market. baked white potatoes, grilled burgers drenched in traverse city cherry hot sauce and barbecue sauce, and sweet corn left over from yesterday that i rubbed in olive oil and Bob’s Steak Seasoning (because it has a lot of salt). it was good. did a mesquite fire and let it fire up and rolled the corn around till some kernels darkened slid em to the side and closed the vents and let it smoke.
also made a peach salsa with a peach, a grilled peach, grilled green pepper and grilled jalapeno. i let em darken over the fire and scraped off the skins (the peppers). the peach i cut in half and peeled grilled maybe a minute on a side. also did half an onion, a splash of malt vinegar & 3 cloves garlic (mine) pressed as well as a pint or so black grape tomatoes. it was pretty fucking awesome.
my last dish was wilted lettuce. took my bacon pan from breakfast and chopped up 3 pieces of leftover bacon, apple cider vinegar & some minnesota honey. poured it over the washed lettuce leaves covered for a minute and served.
it was a casual summer feast paired with the last of the chamomile mead that was gifted to me. yummy. thinking about taking a dog on a stroll. probably that fido, he has been extra cute today, wanting his belly rubbed and laying at my feet.
tomorrow i’m prime
Looking forward to turning 43 tomorrow. I like prime numbers. I have been reading “A Beginners Guide to Constructing the Universe” that goes over the archetypal symbolism of 0-10. Its been a cool book full of great number lore, based in Pythagoras but sweeping in its scope. Doesn’t seem to have an axe to grind but just putting the information out there, making connections. 42 has been a bit of a tough one and i won’t shed any tears to see it gone.
the tiges just pulled out a close one against baltimore. Valverde made it a nail biter but struck out the last guy and built his lead on saves. this could be the year. john was impressed i could talk baseball with our brother-in-law bill. Owe that to dad like so much else.
The heat broke, its been nice. thinking about taking one of the dogs for a walk. probably smokey, she gets the least exercise.
Still planning on doing a night float of the gasconade tomorrow. the 219 to the 235 in case i am never heard from again. you’ll know where to send the search parties. its a full moon on a saturday on my birthday, how often does that happen. would prefer to float the big muddy, but its closed. its also the peak of the perseids so even with the full moon should see lots of sh0oting stars. let me know your wishes i may have extra. mostly for peace, freedom for the people of syria, that sort of thing.
well the dog ain’t going to walk itself.
hot & wet
the heat continues here in the show me state. there is a heat advisory until friday at 7:00 pm. we were lucky the last couple of years so i am trying to bear it with good grace. no, that’s not strong enough. i am trying to enjoy it for what it is. been just running the air 24/7. we keep it on 79 here on leslie lane and with lows close to that and humidity there’s no real point. usually i like to let the dogs come and go in the morning at least, but this am i tried it for about 2 minutes and a bitter hot wind was flowing in so i closed her back up.
did spend a little time outside this morning. watered everything in the back. used city water because i didn’t want to fritter away the shade hooking up the hose to the water barrels. i want to do it in the morning because the water can get hot. trevor just got a wooden barrel for his house. i want to upgrade when these go to pot.
friday we went on a bit of a float trip. drove out to overton bottoms with jared and met up with eric and a buddy of his and trevor and a buddy of his although didn’t end up seeing them much. fido came along had a real good time. ended up smelling like a swamp. dove off the canoe twice and did some swimming. we canoed down but couldn’t get through to the river. canoeing through the woods is a rare experience.
yesterday canned pickles with sarah, went to the market and drank coffee with harry. saw the pitiful state of memorial hill and weeded it while the grill got going. roasted a local chicken over a can of ginger ale with some garlic thrown in. smoked it up with apple wood and fresh sage & brined it in balsamic, sugar and salt. roasted some sweet corn & polished off the cabbage/pasta salad.
for our outdoor adventure john and the dogs and i hiked up bear creek. went right the creek bed which gives it more of an outdoor feel dropping out of the sounds of the city and the dogs could be off leash some. fido got confident and started to wander so i leashed him up.
made for a long day so i went to bed early and slept late. had a long involved dream again largely work related. a client from the agency shot me in the shoulder with an electrical gun. hurt like hell but i was stoic about it and told him not to worry about it that i had bated him. i had said “go ahead and shoot me” or something of the sort, new it was the wrong thing to say at the time but dreams. the overall feeling was a stunned bemusement so that appears to be progress. usually my overall feeling is being overwhelmed or annoyed/frustrated. haven’t had a panic work nightmare for many years and several jobs.
this morning made french toast with black bear bakery wheat bread. i had sliced thick as it was crumbly and let air out but the slices were to thick and the batter didn’t seep all the way in so it was a little on the hardy side. french toast is not supposed to taste like its good for you. had a nice flavor though i fresh grated vanilla bean, nutmeg, cinnamon stick & star anise into the batter.
mowed the front lawn before it got unbearably hot. drinking my second round of coffee before gearing up for the next project. i’m going to make some zucchini soup i got out of the tribune. maybe i’ll be early enough on it to serve it with supper. going to do something with the left over chicken probably throw in my annie’s mac & cheese with some grape tomatoes and fried cabbage (if the moths left me any. my cabbage has been almost a total loss. handpicking was inadequate for the task so i am looking for a more aggressive organic solution or i may have to look at poisons or give up on home grown cabbage).
adventure can be inspiring
Its a hot day outside and enjoying some rare ac at home “relaxing and enjoying the work of justin verlander” to use the commentary without the expressed written consent of major league baseball. Its a slow game though and with only evenings and weekends for entropy control and to advance projects it seemed a good time to blog. as i said a post or two ago i am committed to blogging weekly if for nothing else to give the computer enough time online to do updates. i feel like my last couple read like that too.
Overall, i’ve been a little low energy which is not unexpected but inconvenient as the world expects me to jam, all day almost every day. i’ve been on top of that but not much else, personal life items i’ve left without the attention to detail and positive effort they require. but today i am tired but a good kind of tired. not as tired as verlander, its 98 in KC and he’s over the century mark and a fast hurler. in his defense he’s in much better shape, which sort of relates to what i’m going to be blogging about. adventure can be inspiring.
friday i lit out of work right on time and threw some things together for a float trip with eric and trevor. we were going to go camp somewhere close and then float the grand, conditions permitting. [verlander’s getting some rest after an inge error cost him his shut out, there’s bases loaded with a 1 run lead] i loaded a lot of stuff since i had the space and time and wasn’t exactly sure what the camping would be like. i also gave everything a good solid drink in the garden because it was supposed to be hot and stuff was thirsty. i also found this ginormous tomato horned worm and squished him. he’d done some damage and i feel like there’s at least another one but i can’t find him. maybe tonight when its in the shade.
at close to 6 i decided i would see if i could load the boat. if you’re not a regular reader i have short and stubby plastic canoe that slides nicely into the back of the popster’s f 250, one strap and its secure. its really growing on me. my brother got it for a float with smokey down the big muddy and its both short and has a huge keel which makes it maneuverable for a solo boater. also makes it convenient not to have to strap it on top. plus people are always impressed with all the cup holders. john calls it “the Cadillac of cheap canoes”.
but i never got to see if i could load it myself because mark, who i knew was a possible drove up and helped me load it and ably strapped it down. i have a thing about scraps and am majorly inept for having been dealing with them my whole life. its probably a complex but i’m almost 500 words into this post and haven’t even left yet so i got to pick up the pace. mark followed me over to trevor’s and we had a PBR in the front yard and strategized. the grand was flooded and there was no nearby camping so we decided to do locust creek through pershing state park. [the royals announcer gave a nice run down on victor martinez, he came to the tigers not up to potential, got in ‘short stop shape’ and this year he’s an all star. cabrerra has also dropped some pounds (but he was a monster last year big as a house)]
mark rode up with me and it was nice to reconnect as we both have been through some stuff and could relate and we had a good talk about grief. we stopped in macon for mexican food. i got alleged tamales which were either these little deep fried things which were pretty good or a mass of corn meal with an array of chicken and hamburger. not bad but not tamales. i also realized i forgot fido’s bowl, remembering i had let it be when i thought to pack it in case he wanted to eat before the treat. i walked over to walmart and got some iam’s little dog cereal and a couple of other things.
so with all that we rolled into pershing state park pretty late. it was an rv kind of park but the entrance was empty so we were off by ourselves and they have showers. not bad really for $11 i think for a nonelectric site. i didn’t want to chance setting up the tent not really knowing if its mine. john and i both had Marmots and he had packed up the camping stuff conflating our things and i couldn’t remember what model i have. so i decided to just sleep on the cot which was a bad idea from the start because of the mosquitoes and not packing a sheet. plus the raccoons were persistent and fido was barking and facing off and i didn’t get to sleep until they called it a night at sunrise, except for the four stuck in the dumpster. [valverde holds the lead and the tiges go into the all star break in first beating out the hated cleveland racists] so maybe 2 hours sleep tops.
but i woke up a little groggy but feeling good. eric makes this coffee concentrate and i mixed it strong and everyone enjoyed the can of condensed milk i broke out. a camping trick i learned from the popster who liked to live large. it was also good with the oatmeal mark made with lots of chopped almonds as it sweetened it up a little. i read the paper and drank my coffee and felt human enough to do the dishes. we drove south to find a pull out, checked out a little iron bridge and talked to a local who didn’t know anything about floating conditions. we drove south and found a spot and left the red truck.
we drove up to 36 i think and went west to the first pull off and found a good put in place. this is norther missouri bottom land. flat and rich mostly agricultural. there’s a nicely maintained riparian zone down the creek and it was muddy but of a goodly size. trevor saw a flat turtle and we both encountered a snake at the first log jam. it looks like he was fishing were everything just suddenly comes to a halt. we looked around and he disappeared. we ended up with a fairly lengthy portage which we did with good sport and a lot of gratitude as we ran into some really great wooded wetland with some really big old beach trees that certainly predated settlement. they didn’t look as big as the biggies in the spot of alleged old growth in Houston Woods in Ohio but they were really good sized and it was a mature forest.
we pushed through both poison ivy and stinging nettles to get back to the creek and were glad to get in the water and ended with no ill effects of either except from some nettle-itch at the time which is invigorating if you can look at it right. we ended up having 2 more portages and saving a third one by lifting the canoe over a fallen log at the third obstruction. nonetheless we all had fun and the portages made it more of an adventure, our own voyage of discovery and a good time was had by all.
especially fido who enjoyed his first float. he enjoyed being off leash as we scouted pull outs and put ins and had been on a swim and was reluctant for me to grab him up and throw him on the canoe. He jumped out once preferring to swim or run along side but he got used to it. we stopped to pick a couple of ripe blackberries (in a week or 2 it will be an excellent float with a lot of berries pickable by boat. I had fido on a leash when we picked berries or he would have abandoned the expedition.
I bet he’s glad he stayed though cuz we hiked in out of the way places, swam when we got hot. one nice place had a shady log and there was one of the few bluffs and the creek had carved out a nice deep swimming hole. fido swam across even though it was wide and deep with a strong current. he is a doughty sailor dog just like bichon frise’ are supposed to be. we had lunch really great cheese and avocado on black bear bakery bread which were very yummy. i wish i would have brought my first tomato though, although we may have that for dinner tonight. kevin made hummus and tabbouleh.
at our lunch stop i really struggled. i sank into the mud up to my knees and lost a shoe and was really stuck for a minute. had to have help to scramble up the muddy bank to the luncheon log. it really struck home my desire to get into better shape and the need to be way more on it now that i am getting older. i’ve been cutting myself to much slack for having a hard life and still need exercise more and eat better. i was more convinced when i was the only one that was completely done in (except for fido) at the end of the day. eric was kind enough to drag my boat out and carry it up to the truck.
but the adventure was fun. it could have been an ordeal which that uncertainty is a prerequisite of adventure. we were all resourceful, flexible and laid back so we would have rolled with whatever and made it work but it was big enough to be a challenge but doable enough to be pure fun. we all enjoyed some country cooking and had the buffet and i ate good. but not so good as has been my habit of late.
been pretty on it today too. slept hard and good and woke up refreshed and feeling like i’d done something. drank coffee and read the paper. roasted my first batch of beans, an ultra-light Guatemalan that looks awesome and i’m eager to try. i’ll let you know in a day or two how it is. then i mowed the back yard before it got to hot, got some laundry hung and made it to the wabash farmers/art market. got some sweet corn, cucumber for the humus, and some peaches (pricy but good). decided to skip malick’s new one but saw it was playing through thursday so i might still catch it. been thinking about asking someone out. haven’t done that in many years.
stuck unstuck
Its hot outside. July for me means among other things the official end of the summer planting season. I never really could get in a rhythm to get much in this summer. I did put in a small patch of okra which i thinned out yesterday and the seedlings are looking pretty good for being planted in the dark. It was a bit of a whim one evening back and it had been hot but managed to get it double dug and the requisite 4″ of compost worked in. I put it all in the bottom layer to keep the Smokey dog from eating out of it. I also put the fence around it and the garlic. The garlic looks done. When time and shade comes together I will harvest it and let it dry hanging on the dining room wall. I’ll probably set some back to plant this fall. I had about three varieties. Only two of them put out scapes so i expect them to be small.
time to put on the kettle. i am trying to fix my slow bathroom drain with baking soda and vinegar (3/4 and 1/2 cup respectively poured down the drain and then closed) followed by a kettle of boiling water. Its my first try this way, i’ll let you know how it goes.
Haven’t been blogging much. my computer bogged down so i just abandoned it for a couple of weeks. turns out it was just trying to deal with automatic updates and all i need to do to keep it going is stay on the computer longer. i tend to take a quick look at email and facebook and move on closing up the laptop before all that stuff can happen. i’m going to use that as impetus to blog more.
John heard the kettle and asked about coffee and my near boiling water was repurposed. John has been home roasting for us. This pots a light roast Guatemalan. good day for a nap and i got a short one in. got woke up with john calling up Fido and Shadow that there was a dear in the yard. They tore off after it and the deer took right off. All it managed to do was take a dump so i am pleased it didn’t mow down my garden and flowering shrubs. Usually once a year it happens since dad put the fence up but i was hoping with the extra 2 dogs it would increase my deer suppression. this is the first year my hosta blossoms have done their thing without the deer eating them all. my neighbor henry reports the deer ate them to the roots before we moved in.
Well update on the drain. didn’t get in the first try. i just poured the kettle in and let it sit because it was clogged up. had to break out the plunger. tried less baking soda and swept what i couldn’t get down the drain away and poured in the vinegar. this time the vinegar flowed down the drain and i got the drain closed. don’t think i got the volcano action going at the site of the problem. time to get in the shower. michael and amy are having john and i and fido for cocktails and grilled fish this evening.
what else did i do. i weed whipped the weed patch. john was dubious about my pokeweed but its both native and pretty so i let one be and have let a few grow up. i also left a mimosa tree. i never thought too with the neighbors beautiful one but after they cut most of it down i decided i would let one come up by the stump of the old bush honey locust. i’ve still got some lawn prettying up to do early and late tomorrow. might even mow, the backyard could certainly use it. besides some poop scooping and picking up leaf debris it was about all i could manage before john and i went to Twin Lakes dog park. It was my first trip out there, very pretty and fido got some good running in.
the market also took a chunk of my morning. got some lettuce (probably only a week or two til its gone until fall), red potatoes, tomatoes (should have my own if not next week then the week after), ground beef and pork, brats, and hotdogs, got a Patric chocolate bar for my market treat, dozen corn for the fourth, eggs, etc.
ok, went to brush my teeth to go out and the drain worked. glory glory halleluiah. our plumbing, i’m afraid is my favorite thing about america.
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