Sunday, September 11, 2011

diggin' in the dirt

I stepped outside this morning – the sun was shining, birds were singing, not a cloud in the sky, 80 degrees today…..and here I sat in front of this damn laptop all day. October 3rd is a lifetime away. I have to throw away four more weekends and then finally, I’ll have more freedom. This has been such a drudge, and at the same time, it hardly seems more than a few blinks of an eye.

I’m only kidding myself. When this class ends, I must dive and bury into getting a proposal finished. At least it’ll be something far more interesting than this crap I’m writing day after day. No…too harsh…I wrote some good crap today – stuff I really care about.  It's a good place.

Everything inside this pea-brain of mine is all squirreled up lately. It does no good to complain or write about it. Maybe old age makes it impossible to keep everything sorted all neat and orderly, so our brains change from a nice grid of organized and categorized information into a haystack of raw data. We transform from lasagna to spaghetti – everything we know, all neatly layered and confined to a pan, changes to squiggly chaos on an open platter. That seems to be what is happening to me…anyway. Maybe it’s the start of Alzheimer’s. There’s plenty of that on my dad’s side…don’t know if there’s any on my mother’s side. It seems better to think this happens to everyone as a consequence of age rather than this happens to me because my brain is becoming jello.

Dick & me, St. Paul, KY

I found a small album of photos a few weeks ago. Here’s another one developed in 1960. It’s my older brother and me. We are playing in the dirt in front of my great grandparents’ house in St. Paul, KY. The picket fence in the photo is a compass arrow in my memory system. The fence is a significant boundary line in my life.

At work, I’m in a very favorable position of indirect power recently. It’s kind of been fun the past few days. Can work be fun? Is that possible?

That picture of me and Dick in the dirt reminds me of how much I miss working in my garden.  Gardens also have very special meaning for me.  Maybe that would make an interesting future blog post.

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