Ain't No Mountain High...
Looks like the first major snowfall has come to our fair town- most of my Saturday was spent clearing the driveway- my neighbor stopped by to ask my advice on a broken-down snowblower- I can manage to check/change oil and belts in most motor vehicles, but unfortunately this proved beyond my admittedly limited technical knowledge. Better to seek a professional opinion, I advised, than to have me potentially make it worse. I was relying on the old formula of snow shovel combined with much elbow grease. Time consuming, yes, but reliable as long as I hold out. Machines, I've found, are unlike people, and for that matter a Windows operating system, in that if there's something wrong, it's usually for a reason. Correct the problem and the machine will run. But people are not machines. And PCs are a world unto themselves.
But on a completely unrelated note, I'm thrilled to welcome aboard our newest crew member on the old Ship Of Fools, none other than one Emma Marguerite- named after my wife's grandmother. The young gal is due to join us at the end of June, and both mom and baby are doing pretty well. Mom is understandably tired, but we think this will be our last. I'm pretty excited, though I have a suspicion her and her big brother are going to be trouble. Apart from this, things proceed slowly but surely. I'm hoping to set up a test date for my class A license in the very near future. I got to drive the oldest and most eccentric truck in the school fleet last week- an 8-speed double-gated transmission a good deal older than I am, with a woefully underpowered engine, no shocks to speak of, and a dodgy clutch. Old 485, as it's (in polite circles) called, referring to the registration number. Of course, it was love at first shift. The steering is surprisingly responsive- apart from a ride like amateur night at the rodeo, turns are easy and tight. Now if I could just get my @#$%^ maneuvers down pat, we'd be in business! But in time, and with continued hard work, it will come. It's not how many times you get knocked down- you're only beaten when you don't get back up again.
Divine Gift
As if life itself were
some divine gift,
But you know better in your solitude, hard-won
The journey terrified you, made you stagger in your own
strength
looking and under it all not surprised to find that
inside your shell of ugliness, you had
more than enough to break down doors, rip through walls,
bring down the cinder blocks with your raw and scraped hands
You went without a coat in the cold, you
wanted to find out what cold was, to run those
now-scarred hands over it, you realized it was
all just another word for how much
shit you take and how much you dish out
The only one who has it is you
The only one who is it is you
When you’re still standing when the sun rises over you
try not to act too surprised.
But on a completely unrelated note, I'm thrilled to welcome aboard our newest crew member on the old Ship Of Fools, none other than one Emma Marguerite- named after my wife's grandmother. The young gal is due to join us at the end of June, and both mom and baby are doing pretty well. Mom is understandably tired, but we think this will be our last. I'm pretty excited, though I have a suspicion her and her big brother are going to be trouble. Apart from this, things proceed slowly but surely. I'm hoping to set up a test date for my class A license in the very near future. I got to drive the oldest and most eccentric truck in the school fleet last week- an 8-speed double-gated transmission a good deal older than I am, with a woefully underpowered engine, no shocks to speak of, and a dodgy clutch. Old 485, as it's (in polite circles) called, referring to the registration number. Of course, it was love at first shift. The steering is surprisingly responsive- apart from a ride like amateur night at the rodeo, turns are easy and tight. Now if I could just get my @#$%^ maneuvers down pat, we'd be in business! But in time, and with continued hard work, it will come. It's not how many times you get knocked down- you're only beaten when you don't get back up again.
Divine Gift
As if life itself were
some divine gift,
But you know better in your solitude, hard-won
The journey terrified you, made you stagger in your own
strength
looking and under it all not surprised to find that
inside your shell of ugliness, you had
more than enough to break down doors, rip through walls,
bring down the cinder blocks with your raw and scraped hands
You went without a coat in the cold, you
wanted to find out what cold was, to run those
now-scarred hands over it, you realized it was
all just another word for how much
shit you take and how much you dish out
The only one who has it is you
The only one who is it is you
When you’re still standing when the sun rises over you
try not to act too surprised.
posted by Tenryu at 5:08 PM
1 Comments:
Whoops, thanks for catching that typo- most of the morning was spent shoveling, what with my three-year old coming and going, and finding a place to dump all the newly moved snow- the way the driveway is designed meant walking back and forth a good deal. Drug tests shouldn't be a problem- luckily, they don't do psychological screenings...
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