Ploop

I haven't done one of these in a while.

BROWN You are usually very straight-forward. You have a passive personality and enjoy nurturing those around you. You are very grounded and prefer to keep things simple and honest. Find out your color at Quiz Me!

The sun came out for the first time in weeks. It is unbelievable. A skiff of snow on the ground, crisp, freezing air, and a round sun that seems much to colorful to be real. Such beauty almost makes winter up here worth it...almost

It started one grey morning with a bus ride to Boise Idaho and a car battery tucked under my arm. Well actually, it started with a phone call a few days before from a very old friend: "Yo! I have a truck for you." A 1961 International 1 ton, 4x4, V8, with a steel flatbed, crane, and winch, among other things. Sweet! Okay, so it's not really for me, it's to be shared by dad and various relatives according to their needs; still, it was my distinct honor to go to Boise and drive it home. And what a trip it was.
After about ten hours on a Greyhound, I was met at the station by The Mechanic of Infinite Ability in his newly acquired (free, of course) 1981 Subaru Justy. Back at his house---well, wait. I can't really call it a house. When we got to his hovel...no, that won't work either. I think he put it best himself: "Welcome to my structure." Two rooms do not have floors---just dirt. There is not a lot of the interior walls left, and the kitchen is full of the wood from the missing floors; which he has been cutting up with a Skil Saw and burning in a wood stove he dug up from the front yard in order to keep warm. And then there was the mice: no traps for these little guys, they get the .22mag in the head. In the house. The bullets don't quite go all the way through the wall we discovered.
So after two days of preparing the truck for the trip, with plenty of smokes and beer tossed into the mix, we finally left at 6:15pm, Saturday. First stop after gas was when the headlights decided that they didn't like being on when the clutch was pressed. This gave me great pause, I assure you. With flashlights in the dark we found the source of the trouble and soon rolling again. Now, I haven't told you yet that the transmission had a really nasty whine at any speeds above 25mph---at least, we thought it was the tranny---in was actually the front axle; when we finally figured this out it was late and dark and about 40 miles out of Boise. So we ended up pulling the front driveline off in the gravel by the side of the road by the headlights of the Suburu. By this point the wind was blowing and the temperature could not have been above 25 degrees. Back in the cab with a sleeping bag wrapped around my knees and as many coats as I could cram myself into, we made good time for a few hours. There were various gas-station skeptics muttering under their breath about us being 'Fucking crazy', and 'What a piece of shit!'; there was the pretty moon floating in ragged clouds, snow in one small mountain town; the comforting glow of a cigarette against the frosty dashboard; 55mph all night with a deafening roar of motor and gears.
At 4:00am we couldn't take it anymore, so I climbed into the Suburu, we cranked the heater and struggled to sleep for an hour and a half. Finally giving up, sore, hungry and pissy, I climbed out and started the International to let the engine warm up (there was no hope for the cab following this wonderful example). Alas! Little did we foresee the misfortune that was to follow directly after: sitting in the little car trying to get warm, there came without warning, a sickening crunch. The car rocked and we stared out the window, which was filled with headlights and grill. How's it going!!! Apparently the parking brake does not work on the '61. $#!%!!! It was okay though; the car wasn't in very good shape anyway, and it still drove. We went on.
From there on out it was pretty much a staring-eyed, sleep-crazed lurch toward home, and we finally rolled in about 10:30am Sunday. I'll never understand why or how I get myself into these kinds of situations---I guess I'm a glutton for punishment or something. In the end though, I really love this stuff; and you know I'll be out there again---probably sooner than I think!

I guess there is life after college!!!



Comfy beds...



Relaxing roadside diversions...



Small interesting animals...



And, of course, enthusiastic road trips!

As if sitting for hours in a hidden corner of Auntie's---a very comfortable four-story bookstore in Spokane---covertly reading because I can't afford to buy a damn book wasn't bad enough, I was reading a children's book! Surrounded by noble tomes of deep and ancient wisdom, I sat there all night and read the first two books of A Series of Unfortunate Events. Now I must admit that I have a great weakness for that rather worn-out and over-done genre: A small family of children, usually orphans, who go to live somewhere new and encounter all sorts of strange characters and unique adventures. These books (the ones I was reading) are particularly silly; if fact, my opinion of the author is that he is narrow-minded, arrogant, spottily educated, and tremendously annoying. However, I became (and I am ashamed to admit it), hooked. I will not be satisfied until I have the whole series, and this a woeful circumstance indeed...Ah well. It's nice to reading again. And sometimes it such a relief to read something light, funny and ridiculously delightful. Soon I will find my way back Auntie's and finish the rest...how miserable

The stars seem to dance
For those alone who look on them with fondness.
Always they have been friends---cold, yes; but forever there
Though distant in the nightime air
And my frosty eyes gaze out
The slight raise of a brow perhaps
Asks whether or no...?

Nickser tricks Her with an Elixer
And you can betser She was quite sickser

Br. [Playing guitar] How is it outside?
Sd. Snowing...Sort of.
Br. If man is social creature why does the emptiness of the country-side appeal so much to some?
Sd. Self-pity perhaps?
Br. [Still playing] No. More to it than that.
Sd. There is something in silence that reminds one of our individual relation to God. I mean, you can have all the friends you want, but in the end it will be your devotion and closeness to Him that matters.
Br. Yeah, but the countryside also brings out the ties man has to the earth. It's easy to forget that all our cities and governments and conveniences are not as permanent as they seem. Nor will they bring us salvation.
Sd. True; too many things to do is sometimes a terrible thing...
Br. [Strumms, musing]
Sd. Sadness is an odd thing. Is doesn't seem to be something to blame someone for, yet it must be selfish.
Br. You need the city.
Sd. No, just not isolation.
Br. Now it's really snowing.
Sd. Keep watch, now...