It's been cold the past few days. Luckily I got Bruce to fix the heater in my car a few weeks ago so scraping ice and staying warm haven't been as much of an issue as they were for the first half of winter. It's been kind of a strange winter though. It seams like it's been unseasonably warm for the majority of the past month or two. I'm not complaining though, it helps to keep the gas bill down when the heater doesn't have to work too hard.
Our little house is still coming along nicely. It's gotten to the point where it finally does feel like our place, by which I mean that we've cluttered up almost every nook and cranny with stuff. I don't think that Mandi and I will ever be known as minimalists. The bathroom remodel is almost done. The tile is finished and I'm pretty sure there aren't any leaks, fingers crossed, so all that's left is a little paint and maybe cabinet or shelf. I remember now why I gave up on the tile installation career while I was still in high school. The next remodel project we are thinking about, just thinking mind you, is the possibility of turning the garage into a second living area as is common in our neighborhood. I'm thinking that it might do more for our property value as a living room than it does as a single car garage. We'll see. I'm going to have to acquire a lot more tools for that project to be a possibility. I'm also going to need some planning help. Building codes and whatnot are not my strongest area. Luckily I know a few people who deal with that kind of thing a lot. We have also found out in the last week that the reason all of our drains have been slow since we moved in is that the drain pipe from the house to the sewer is collapsing. This is a common thing, we are told, in houses from the era ours was built in, and we were starting to think that this might be the case, but it doesn't make the news any less painful. The plumbers are starting to really love us. This will be their fifth or sixth trip out to our house. The good news is that they assure us the new pipe will outlast either the house or us or both. Woo hoo!
So I'm looking for woodworking tools, preferably used but in good condition, if anyone has any or knows someone who does and is willing to sell. A chop saw would be great, a drill press, a circular saw, things of this nature.
Also, I've been thinking for the past three of four years of picking up an instrument and learning to play. I'm thinking this would be a good time to do is as I have more free time than I am ever likely to have again, and I could probably scrounge up enough money to get a decent used instrument. I've been leaning towards mandolin, dulcimer, violin, fiddle, or something similar. If anyone sees or hears of anything that sounds like a good deal let me know.
Work is going pretty well right now. It seems like the slow part of the year for us is coming to an end as I've had at least 10 new jobs come to my desk in the past few days. I'll be very busy for the immediate future. It's nice to see the work coming in as so many companies and industries are struggling right now. It is probably too early for the downturn to really hit us, but it hasn't hit yet and I am very grateful for that.
I think that's all the high points for what's been going on lately. As this post is based on reality, the next will probably be more fiction. Exciting!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Rain Queen
She steps into my path as if from nowhere at all.
I've walked this trail a thousand times, never a soul did I see. There's always a presence. The valley itself is a presence. It presses in on my mind as a constant reminder that I am, and can only ever be, a visitor to this place. That is enough.
The foliage sways, leaves dancing in the wind, rising and falling, never the same movement twice, and always a beautiful show. The colors in the canopy and across the forest floor are the colors of sunsets and fire, death and decay. The breeze goes still, the rustling quiets, and each tree drops a few more leaves to the forest floor. That is when I first see her. She is walking towards me on the same path that I travel. I think that maybe she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
She is almost as tall as me, though not quite. Her hair is the color of honey and sunlight, her dress seems to fade through all the colors around us but I never see it happen. It seems to change just slightly every time I look away. Despite the cold that sends chills down my spine, I find that she walks barefoot as if it were a summer day. She smiles at me and I find it hard to breathe. She can tell, and it makes her laugh, and the sound of her voice fills my heart to bursting. As she nears where I am standing, for I cannot move, a light rain begins to fall.
She takes my hand and asks me to follow her. We walk down the path I was on but soon we take a turn that I've never seen before. We walk for hours, talking of times to come and times long past. She tells me that we have met before, when I was a younger man, and I find it hard to believe though I know she speaks the truth. In her presence I feel young again. I remember things long forgotten, though I don't remember her. She says that she knows this, that it is to be expected for it is intrinsic to her nature, but that we have walked this path before. She hopes that it won't be the last time.
The world is changing, she says. There will be a clash of wills and it will change the world. She says that forces are rising, that a handful of players will be the impetus for the movement of many. She has had a hand in this. She is not the only one, there are others like her, and some of them are her allies. She says that there is a role for me to play in this. Events are coming to a head. I tell her I live a life of solitude, that I have had enough games of power for one lifetime, and that I wish no part in it. She doesn't try to change my mind, but says that I will come around of my own accord. We shall see.
We have come to a high meadow in the mountains and I find that I can see nothing that I recognize. I've spent half my life in these mountains, a good 25 years, and I could have sworn that I knew them all. She says that we have come a long way. I am growing tired and I tell her that I need a nap. She says she knows and that she will wake me when it is time. I ask her what that means but she doesn't respond. Soon I am asleep.
When I wake up, I don't know how much later, she is no longer with me. I am no longer in an unrecognizable mountain meadow, but in my own cabin many miles from where I met her. There is a fire burning cheerily in the hearth that I don't remember lighting. I decide I need to eat better before bed, or maybe drink less. There is an empty wine bottle on my table that I don't remember opening. I can see from where I'm sitting that there's something under it. It is a note with two lines of text in someone's flowing script.
"Good wine. Get the door.
Appreciatively, The Rain Queen"
Confused, I look up at my front door.
A moment later there's a knock.
I've walked this trail a thousand times, never a soul did I see. There's always a presence. The valley itself is a presence. It presses in on my mind as a constant reminder that I am, and can only ever be, a visitor to this place. That is enough.
The foliage sways, leaves dancing in the wind, rising and falling, never the same movement twice, and always a beautiful show. The colors in the canopy and across the forest floor are the colors of sunsets and fire, death and decay. The breeze goes still, the rustling quiets, and each tree drops a few more leaves to the forest floor. That is when I first see her. She is walking towards me on the same path that I travel. I think that maybe she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
She is almost as tall as me, though not quite. Her hair is the color of honey and sunlight, her dress seems to fade through all the colors around us but I never see it happen. It seems to change just slightly every time I look away. Despite the cold that sends chills down my spine, I find that she walks barefoot as if it were a summer day. She smiles at me and I find it hard to breathe. She can tell, and it makes her laugh, and the sound of her voice fills my heart to bursting. As she nears where I am standing, for I cannot move, a light rain begins to fall.
She takes my hand and asks me to follow her. We walk down the path I was on but soon we take a turn that I've never seen before. We walk for hours, talking of times to come and times long past. She tells me that we have met before, when I was a younger man, and I find it hard to believe though I know she speaks the truth. In her presence I feel young again. I remember things long forgotten, though I don't remember her. She says that she knows this, that it is to be expected for it is intrinsic to her nature, but that we have walked this path before. She hopes that it won't be the last time.
The world is changing, she says. There will be a clash of wills and it will change the world. She says that forces are rising, that a handful of players will be the impetus for the movement of many. She has had a hand in this. She is not the only one, there are others like her, and some of them are her allies. She says that there is a role for me to play in this. Events are coming to a head. I tell her I live a life of solitude, that I have had enough games of power for one lifetime, and that I wish no part in it. She doesn't try to change my mind, but says that I will come around of my own accord. We shall see.
We have come to a high meadow in the mountains and I find that I can see nothing that I recognize. I've spent half my life in these mountains, a good 25 years, and I could have sworn that I knew them all. She says that we have come a long way. I am growing tired and I tell her that I need a nap. She says she knows and that she will wake me when it is time. I ask her what that means but she doesn't respond. Soon I am asleep.
When I wake up, I don't know how much later, she is no longer with me. I am no longer in an unrecognizable mountain meadow, but in my own cabin many miles from where I met her. There is a fire burning cheerily in the hearth that I don't remember lighting. I decide I need to eat better before bed, or maybe drink less. There is an empty wine bottle on my table that I don't remember opening. I can see from where I'm sitting that there's something under it. It is a note with two lines of text in someone's flowing script.
"Good wine. Get the door.
Appreciatively, The Rain Queen"
Confused, I look up at my front door.
A moment later there's a knock.
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