So the last week or so I have been all about doing projects - trying to keep my hands busy so that my head and heart don't hurt. So last night, since there was no football practice, Jake and I took to the woods to clear out some of the damage from the fall storms.
One of these wind burst knocked a tree branch down and it shattered my windshield.
I wasn't in it - so perhaps my guardian angel has some help these days. True or not, it makes me feel better to think that my dad is watching out for us. Now if he could have gotten the windshield replaced for free - instead of couple of hundred dollars I had to spend to replace it - but that is another story.
Anyway - our house is bordered by about an acre and a half of old stand pine forest - which hasn't been cleaned out for years before we moved there. We have three major piles now of pine tree segments = you know 8 to 16 foot segments - piled up so that at some point we can make furniture - or a house - or a split rail fence - something other than mulch with all these trees. As I was walking around tossing more trees on the pile, I realized there were a lot of dead pine trees still standing. Roots no longer attached really - and in several spots, leaning against the tree next to them. Not a big deal unless you are talking about a 20-30 foot tree - and we are. Visions of kids running through the woods and being smushed by those trees as they tipped over at a most in opportune moment whirred through my head.
So I did what any Loner would do - I knocked them over. With my shoulders. Until my arms were scratched up and there were no dead pine trees standing.
I'm not sure if that makes me Paul bunyon.... or Babe the Blue Ox.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
well, did you think I fell off the Earth - me too.
First I must publicly thank Jerry and Nora for coming to my dad's viewing. They figured it wasn't that far to drive up to Logansport - and on that not so great day it was good to see a familiar face. Funnier still when Nora's dad realized that he knew a bunch of my dad's family - funny how folks are in small towns. It was so kind of you two to come - thanks.
Thanks also to those of you who sent me a note - the first weeks have been spent in typical form - working until I pass out. You see I have discovered that if it really stings - and you need to clear your head - hard work keeps the adrenaline flowing - and keeps your mind to busy to feel sad.
There have been a couple of revelations, though so this begins the writing again. Hopefully I won't bore you to tears!
I realized about a week ago that my dad now knows what happened to the Pinto. Have I not told you that infamous story - well kiddos - here goes - but it need a little preface. For any of you who do not know me in person, I am not a bitty girl - I do everything big - I don't walk quietly - and I talk really loud - though not intentionally. So - here goes.
I learned to drive in a 1973 Ford Pinto with manual transmission. Going to high school at Cathedral, my dad wanted to make sure I could get up that hill okay in the manual - so we drove up and down that thing - stopping midway - just letting up on the clutch a little and killing the car about a million times - until I got that thing to work. Then and only then would my daddy let me drive it to school. I loved that car and drove the tar out of it.
One afternoon, though, I came home, parked the car and when I went to put the gearshift into neutral position - the whole gearshift fell off. Just tipped over. I was stunned.
So I did what any daddy's girl would do - I interrupted himin the office and told him that the gear shift fell off and that I didn't do anything to it.
This resulted in about 15 minutes worth of debate and my wounded pride refused to admit that I had done anything - though as an adult I can see that I must have just worn the poor thing out by shoving it into the gears - but I still contend that I didn't do anything.
Years later every time we would talk about Heaven I would tell him that someday when he got there he would know I really didn't do anything to that gearshift in the Pinto.
Two weekends ago, I was driving my brother in laws pickup - a stickshift - and the top of the gearshift popped off. And I started laughing - a good deep belly laugh - followed by the always near to the surface tears - and I thought just how funny it was that now he knows I didn't do anything to the Pinto when the gearshift fell off.
Thanks also to those of you who sent me a note - the first weeks have been spent in typical form - working until I pass out. You see I have discovered that if it really stings - and you need to clear your head - hard work keeps the adrenaline flowing - and keeps your mind to busy to feel sad.
There have been a couple of revelations, though so this begins the writing again. Hopefully I won't bore you to tears!
I realized about a week ago that my dad now knows what happened to the Pinto. Have I not told you that infamous story - well kiddos - here goes - but it need a little preface. For any of you who do not know me in person, I am not a bitty girl - I do everything big - I don't walk quietly - and I talk really loud - though not intentionally. So - here goes.
I learned to drive in a 1973 Ford Pinto with manual transmission. Going to high school at Cathedral, my dad wanted to make sure I could get up that hill okay in the manual - so we drove up and down that thing - stopping midway - just letting up on the clutch a little and killing the car about a million times - until I got that thing to work. Then and only then would my daddy let me drive it to school. I loved that car and drove the tar out of it.
One afternoon, though, I came home, parked the car and when I went to put the gearshift into neutral position - the whole gearshift fell off. Just tipped over. I was stunned.
So I did what any daddy's girl would do - I interrupted himin the office and told him that the gear shift fell off and that I didn't do anything to it.
This resulted in about 15 minutes worth of debate and my wounded pride refused to admit that I had done anything - though as an adult I can see that I must have just worn the poor thing out by shoving it into the gears - but I still contend that I didn't do anything.
Years later every time we would talk about Heaven I would tell him that someday when he got there he would know I really didn't do anything to that gearshift in the Pinto.
Two weekends ago, I was driving my brother in laws pickup - a stickshift - and the top of the gearshift popped off. And I started laughing - a good deep belly laugh - followed by the always near to the surface tears - and I thought just how funny it was that now he knows I didn't do anything to the Pinto when the gearshift fell off.
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