My life be like…

…. Wait, do you hear it?

Some songs, some moments are that way. Don’t feel bad though, of course this makes no sense. Spoiler alert: Reading won’t fully fix the situation either. Sorry. As is often the case I arrive with the full thought process and I begin a tale while you are stuck wondering what the heck happened in the first scene of the movie. Sorry…

So, a thing or three happened recently. Some fulfilling physical activities were doable as I slowly return to me but…. I got some grit in my eyes and got a great reminder of what is still unaccounted for. Afterwards I wrote some and took stock to a degree. Then I decided to take a break for awhile. Knowing I don’t do “sit still” well I devised an ingenious plan and acted on it. Then, suitably injured, I switched to sitting for a week or so. (See? Doesn’t that sound better than “I screwed up and lost track of my hand for one second at an important juncture? Phrasing…) That split second was illuminating even though I already knew it.

Proprioception, that word I mentioned awhile back. The lack of which means you don’t KNOW where parts of you are. It leads to knocking tools around under a car as you work and hearing a phantom, ringing, laugh at your stubbornness and simultaneously your limits. It means you have to (literally) track where your impacted body parts are. Otherwise an accident can easily befall you….

(You know, a thought would be to write a piece on that as it’s somewhat surreal and, in many ways, fascinating. Would that be of interest?)

Anyway, that little boo-boo of mine sees me sitting. Day after day of basically sitting, healing and trying to do nothing to endanger progress to point. (I do follow my own rule you see….) Sitting, thinking, a movie and some music and now this! A sad yet important realization.

For better or worse I don’t dwell on the past or myself. “Review, revise and move.” But…., something clicked earlier. That whole proprioception bit is something I never really considered in place and time of impact. I failed me there. Due to abysmal medical care so, so much wasn’t done, addressed or communicated. (That failing made the efforts of those who tried all the more meaningful.) Without boring you it would suffice to say that I was three years out when a really, really important piece of information was revealed that should have been identified in the first three weeks. Ahh, the value of intel.

You don’t always like data. Good news or bad, you need it though. Maybe I should say good news or sad. The movies, music, dirt in the eyes. The mutual interest behind the laugh. The derring-do and the derring-done, the looks of astonishment when the impossible came easily to pass? Those are gone for now and maybe for good. I was close when I thought about how history and the story of our lives are frail memories when last we met but…. But I forgot about me. Now it’s “clicked”.

That part of me was my playground. I never cared what others saw or thought. I just enjoyed doing that particular voodoo. That ended. It ended and, due to not considering me, I continued to “improvise, adapt and overcome” without stopping to miss it. Lacking a definition (and attendant understanding) I missed that this was a different track of injury. I missed that no amount of work or planning would put it in the same category as range of motion or what have you. This isn’t a sad story per se but it is saddening. Saddening but not sad. This helps me better understand myself and my world.

Remember my admonition to “Always enjoy your only trip to today”? I may never regain those parts of me yet I treasured them while they were there and I tried to never take them for granted. Simply coming to the realization mentioned above gives me better footing going forward and leaves me better able to adjudge myself and my surroundings. “Life be like…” …an unending series of adaptations. I may never again take a lovely car out to dance on a sinuous mountain road but I can always remember to appreciate the ride.

Hidden

Funny thing the past. Such a rich, fascinating thing, a great example of hidden in plain sight until a link is broken and then it’s gone. Shame. The odd part here is that that thought was brought to you by a pair of carelessly discarded heels. Isn’t life funny that way?

So, yesterday I was working down at the Flat on Back Garage practicing catching dirt and grit with my eyes. (Not bad, not bad, left eye definitely did better but “eye” digress….) Tools, weather and physical ability all came together to see a task addressed in the waning hours before a small trip so I was lying there moving along about as well as I could hope given condition. Can’t complain, I was able to get on the floor and under the car. I’ve one arm available for such but I finally had tools to mitigate that deficit so…. So I worked. And in the process I pulled an underbody tray off and got the aforementioned eyes full of crud because of missing a detail. Silly me, I’d have laughed at myself if she hadn’t.

It was interesting to hear her laugh. Both her voice and her laugh are unique. The voice is unmistakable across a room or in a store. The laugh is heartfelt and deep. I rarely hear either nowadays. Years ago (decades actually) I saw her fairly frequently but life is what it is. We got along easily and well just not “that way”. I still see her occasionally and this always leads to visiting a bit. I love that life has treated her well, I love hearing of decades of love and kids becoming adults. It was odd but fitting for that laugh to fill the garage as the tray bounced on the floor. A story might explain why….

She once had a car quite like a lurking Mouse once had. A sibling of the corporate parent. (Stories of cars I remember across years…..) Anyway, one day she was driving us somewhere for some reason. It’s memorable as I typically drove. I do remember we got in at her workplace which was the local parts store. “Because I get a discount!” followed by that laugh. (Gotta love a girl who studies Hooker catalogs and is saving for a HCI setup.) Anyway…., she popped off her heels and dropped them on my side before pulling other shoes on. To my expression she smirked and asked an immortal question: “Have you ever tried speed shifting in heels?”

That brings me to yesterday. She got the “it”. Different people understand different moments. She would understand all of it. She wasn’t really there but, for whatever reason, I heard her laugh. I wonder how many people would see her in her business attire and picture her swapping shoes for the joy of a clean shift on fresh points? Shame they miss the image and that led me down a path as I cleaned my eyes with a greasy hand and carried on.

I hope her kids and grandkids get to meet that her. So many people have so many cool personas that get lost in the drum of the hum that is life. Shame. Few would ever guess that the hulk on blocks was his last car. It was the last before he went “straight”. That big trunk and special bits made it his pride and ‘shine runnin’ joy. There were over a dozen children and share croppin’ simply didn’t cover it all so he sometimes “worked nights”. Memories of surviving the depression that way saw him keep “the Special” fifty years later “just in case”. These stories, these personas, they should be heard. They are part of how we lived and learned. Many a past has a Firebird but, if the story is never shared then it will fade just like that big black car in weeds at the edge of life’s yard. Shame…..

Boxes and Bags

Before getting going I suppose that title has the voice of the Grinch playing in my head. “All the noise, noise, noise…” “I believe the child said something about a check.” “I’ve seen what happens to your gifts!” I can quote that movie line and verse. Ironic intrusion of thought given the thought that brought me here. It too is on packaging and value. Let’s discuss that thunk shall we….

So, I came to a light today about the same time as a lady. On green we both took off at a reasonable pace. I out distanced her easily. Now I’m no speed demon but I say this somewhat proudly. I do have a great deal of affection for my truck but it isn’t built for speed. Were there a rematch she’d probably win if she weren’t on foot next time but anyway…. Let’s go to the thought I had as the jogger preened and waited for the green.

Any parent can tell you that kids love boxes. The younger they are, the easier they are to please. They start off batting at it. Then they love the paper or bag. Later on it’s the box. Heck, it could be a wrapped, empty box and they are thrilled. Then, slowly but surely, it becomes about the contents. Next thing you know years have passed and packaging is far less important. Now, if chosen wisely, they treasure what’s inside. The package might hold importance to a small degree at times but….. That rushed excitement that was once measured in minutes of fulfillment gets swapped for a contentment lasting years.

Funny the things you ponder during the brief interlude in life that a red light gives. I suppose that it doesn’t hurt if you just realized tomorrow is Valentine’s. Maybe add on the image of a 30-something striving to look like a 20-something until the next red gives her another break. Stir in the hope that she’s doing the run for all the right reasons and not matters of concern solely regarding packaging as it might appear. While the sight of something shiny is nice and it’s certainly fun to tear the paper off it’s what’s inside that counts. I hope y’all see something you treasure on the inside tomorrow. That goes for yourself as well as those around you.

Wayside

Well, “Hello”. Hope y’all are well and the new year is moving along. A random comment had me here, searching, for a moment so….

Do have an odd thought though. Several things have recently gained definitions in my world. One really helped with understanding and handling stroke and the other came when I finally got annoyed enough to pursue getting information on a lingering problem from my accident nine (!) years ago. (See? I eventually get around to it….) In both cases defining the problem was more than half the battle. Oftimes we forget how important this step is and we sell ourselves short but not pursuing that bit of data. Bad us. Stop to ponder, define and understand the challenge before you. Sometimes the impossible mountain is a silly molehill. Even if (such as mine) the problem has no magical cure you’ll still be much better for the knowledge.

Ok, babble done, y’all have a good evening.

Where to?

A morning appointment saw me heading away from the day’s destination. How fitting. Much of this year has been turning to the left to go right it’s seemed. Can’t really complain as it’s all ended well but my what a journey. How did that all bring me here you ask? Well…..

Home left, appointment reached and appointment done there was a question, “Where to?” That actually isn’t right. “How to get there?” seems a more fitting way to say it as the destination was known. Thing is, there’s a lot of options to get from “A” to “B” and none offered a clear advantage so I did the obvious and took the (main) road less traveled. This option is mostly four lane yet it is lightly traveled four lane through miles of countryside with some country roads and a ferry thrown in for good measure. Decision decided I selected a gear for going and rolled out.

Now the majority of this route was road I hadn’t driven in a sitting in a long while. Sure, I’d crossed it here and took ten miles there but I hadn’t just turned on it and drove for hours in years. Shame, it’s a gorgeous, rolling road that contained lots of open winter sky. As everyone knows, driving invites thinking thunks and so I thunked thoughts. For instance I thought that a global view of my travel path looked a lot like someone had tattooed the Golden Ratio onto the Old Dominion! Then deeper thoughts bubbled up. Thoughts of the past, things desired yet missed, other days, other places, this year, the last few years, kindness seen, tenacious rebounds, loss, hurt, surprising joys and much more. The scenes of the past flicking by reminded me of so many things. Wondered how y’all were. Another day where it would be fun to have y’all along to show you the vanishing bits of the past that can still be seen if you know what you are seeing. Then I thought of so many other things, places and times. So, some things past that I thought about as I drove, standouts to see/do/experience…. (No particular order)

Cross the plains. A lot of this list list came as I crested hills and the lack of leaves gave good, long, views. Not the plains but…, certainly a seasonal opportunity here at best. If you’ve never experienced the Midwest, you should. Sit at an intersection at harvest and enjoy sunset while combines cross the gathering gloom. Be there on a crystal clear winter day to see the snow swirl. Ever dealt with siblings? Same but different right? Try the Canadian plain too.

On that topic, don’t forget east Europe, maybe some steppes too. From there, aim south by southwest. Go through the arid plains that seems a lot like desert. Sunrise, sunset, it’s pretty. Nighttime? Oh it’s pretty too but wait, there’s more! Be there in the brief wet season to see it explode in short lived color then take a deep breath. Breathe out and head deeper. Get to know deep desert, the kind that might see rain this century. It is it’s own beauty. The nights…., there’s really only one comparable thing I know of….

Sea, ocean actually. Get offshore. (A cruise ship definitely doesn’t count.) Get out, not a day trip but go on out another couple of thousand miles. Bet you didn’t know there were so many stars. Heck, it’s surprising how many satellites there are. The sunrise and sunset on clear days? Now you know why nautical twilight is a separate measure. You’ll get to watch storms pass twenty miles out just like on plains that aren’t water! It’s certainly not the mountains. Speaking of which….

Get in the mountains. Go to soft, old mountains and feel millions of years. Watch nature interact with elevation. Explorer jagged, young mountains. Spend a day sitting on each, getting to know it. Watch the rhythms of all the life, feel the air change through the day…

Of course taking in the long view as I crested hills meant that a bottom was just ahead. Around here it’s hard to fathom that a good chunk of the world isn’t located within a couple of hundred yards of some sort of waterway. There’s a reason the eastern U.S. is green on maps. Leaving the hill and dropping through trees toward the next creek brings memories of other terrain. City anyone?

They are interesting to, each has a unique feel. Ever walk the heart of a major city on a warm summer night? Sort of like the flour truck in “You’ve Got Mail”. Ride the train across town on a warm Fall afternoon. Maybe take in the happy laughter around the holidays. Have breakfast in the corner favorite where it’s very much small town life amid millions. It isn’t the same as sitting on an old mountain yet a city certainly has a beauty to be seen and appreciated too.

Ok, I could babble but interruptions already see me doing little justice to my thoughts on beauty past. Shame. Good news, it’s still there AND you have a shiny new year to find it. Good luck with your search, let me know what you see with the 365 days before you.

Falling

A thought, a nebulous thought, has rattled around recently. Things of the past, knowns of the future and fleeting events of the present, they all come together into an oddity. It’s an oddity because I usually arrive with a thought. Type it, hit “publish” and log out, “There, excised that demon!” Today? Well, were you to ask I’d lack a clear summation yet the thought remains so….. Might as well share a garbled something that’s probably worth nothing. Let’s see.

I see cars whip by, 20mph over the limit and it annoys me.

It’s a fabulously gorgeous time of the year here. Serendipity sees me really getting to enjoy it. From the ridges leading into West Virginia, back through the Valley, over the mountains and through the Piedmont to the coast, it’s an ever changing kaleidoscope. Those western hills are mostly bare now, Piedmont and the eastern side of the valley are in full swing. Tidewater is getting primed. You can literally see the change in climate as you cross the terrain. Kind of cool if you see it. A couple of particular rides stand out….

39 north out of Bergen then onto 6 as you go towards the Artic Circle is a global favorite. It’s simply spectacular.

Some roads east of the Adriatic come to mind. They always seem close kin to West Virginia.

Speaking of which, those old, seldom used Mountain State roads. You know there’s little traffic when trees are reclaiming the road.

That hour before sunrise on a desert. Pick a desert. They all feel special then.

Coming into harbor by moonlight. Wondering how anyone could sleep when it’s this pretty.

Ever been to a funeral?

Finding a bit of leeward shelter on a path. Resting for a moment as you watch the crystals blasting off of the peaks as the wind continually scours the ridgeline.

The enveloping feel of jungle. The sounds.

So, why are they driving so fast? Everyone is talking about how pretty it is. Those who’ve never seen it envy those here and yet too many of those here never stop to look. That failing is repeated worldwide. Haven’t any of these folks pondered their hurry? Have they wondered what is missed as they rush EVERY day? Have they pondered the simple fact that, at the end, there’s a funeral. THEIR funeral. Shame to rush past beauty to reach one’s funeral. Maybe, while vertical, slow to see the leaves falling.

“Harder, Faster..”

So, my apologies to those now hearing Daft Punk. You’re close and I like where your head is at but we actually need to go back yet another couple of decades. Yep Tipper, I’m looking at you.

Recently a icky, smelly girl babbled on and on in https://kitncaboodlesite.wordpress.com/2025/10/05/character-of-a-dominant/ . She had a good point as always. Oftentimes I purposefully stay quiet there as I want her to have her place, her voice and her freedom to interact and yet I can be left with thoughts. Such was the case here as a certain W.A.S.P. classic was suddenly pounding on the mind’s boom box. Once more it was yesteryear and a good soundtrack for a good….. Actually, maybe Tipper & Co. had a point. Hmmm, anyway….

Now it’s almost 40 years later. Even without a stroke it is inevitable that relationships of every sort grow and change. It’s inevitable that, if we are blessed with longevity, “Harder, Faster..” gets redefined. That’s ok. Why? The relationship is much deeper, much more nuanced. I would be disappointed if it weren’t. I’ll grant you that this certainly all sounds very self-centered in a way outside my norm but that misses the point. ALL relationships grow and adapt unless parties die young or split. I’ll still hear Blackie occasionally but I’ll also enjoy a calmed girl prattling on while I watch another sunset.

Now, three years on I’m ok. How are you?

Normally

It’s been nice lately. There’s an unquantifiable something riding the air like Forest Gump’s feather and that something feels like the harbinger of autumn. Not here yet but I think it’s coming.

It’s been the type of day that normally rolls by into contented obscurity, normally. A good day. Gorgeous weather. Errands ran, good meal, late afternoon chores and a good night’s rest ahead. The type of day where it’s easy to simply enjoy oneself in a state of contentment. Normally such a day sees us forego deeper niggling thunks as appreciating just being seems quite goal enough. Normally I’d second such a motion, normally.

Earlier I rolled around a corner in time to see a thoroughly loveable fellow pull out of his drive. He and another fellow were heading out to do who knows what, who knows where, laughing and waving as they passed by. A good guy and a truly jolly guy, one of the most laid-back fellows I know. Good to see that grin a hundred yards off. Normally wouldn’t think about it, normally.

Two hundred yards later I pass his mom on the side of the road. She’s backing up carefully as she mows. Given that she’s backing by her husband’s truck I can’t blame her for missing the wave. Certainly don’t want to hit the truck, nice truck. Now normally he’d be on the mower easing by that nice, clean truck, normally. But, they buried him yesterday. A loving husband and a loved father. Nice fellow, going to miss him.

Sadly, nice fellows pass too. Then life continues, errands are run and yards mowed. And on the gorgeous days leading into Fall it’s easy to follow life’s habits and allow a perfectly peaceful day to slip past underappreciated. Normally my earlier contentment with the day would have seen me beguiled by the sunset across the hill yet forgetting the unique beauty of the trip to today, normally.

Tomorrows

Yesterday annoyed me. I needed to be “medium acceptable”. I’d much rather do damage. It’s fun to watch a smirk dissolve into horror and it’s quite satisfying to know you’ve just bettered the human race but my role was different so…. So I was calm.

Later I was looking about the world when I noticed something missing. Something I’d had my eye on for a couple of years. It was a small something, the sort of thing adults rightly consider an extravagance. It was something that I looked at almost daily as it reminded me of the enduring nature of love. It was gone. I may search for it yet I know that it could have been prioritized differently and remain. That will haunt me.

Last week I rode a road again for the first time in close to a decade. It was something of a distracted ride as I remembered comments, observations and giggles. It’s still a good road and a pretty ride and the rumbling soundtrack was the same yet something was missing….

The road curved up and down just as days and lives do. It’s tempting to hold on to the past so tight we are unable to grab tomorrow’s possibilities. Shame though, it is tempting to let anger, regret, melancholy or any number of emotions retain my attention but I’d hate to trade my tomorrows for yesterdays

Bambi?

I started to watch a movie. I’m home and “…’twas a dark and stormy night.” Doesn’t hurt that I hurt but I’m used to that. A possible driver is the luck of recent days. Is it misfortune or does the universe want to see what I can take? Unsure, I sat. Now a little known fact immediately came into play. You see, those who tell me to rest are part of a secret organization dedicated to making me pay for prior sins. As such, the member on duty tonight called as soon as I hit “play”. By golly they are efficient at making sure I suffer!

That call was a useful chat though. It naturally involved a discussion of whose gear broke, where and how. By the time we finished I’d other things rolling in my head. Having seen a movie this year the interest for another wasn’t high anyway so…. So, figured I’d share a story and a thought all at once the sleep better for it. Besides, it’s a dog story and those are always good.

Some years ago I had an “old dog” who wasn’t too terribly old (9?) and a young pup of maybe a year. The older one was a good dog and normally it would be teaching the pup daily. Now I could spend hours here but a very simple overview is that the play fighting definitely has a purpose. They are teaching in so many ways and pups need this but life isn’t fair is it? It wasn’t fair here either. Old didn’t do as much with new as would be normal. This was the result of a rather sudden tumor you see. So many lessons are harder when you are physically limited. The mind knows but the body is more Bambi than Jordan. I find myself there daily. Today was another day of thinking of that old girl’s struggle.

One day pup was raising a ruckus, ceaselessly barking as only pups or poorly socialized dogs do. A glance revealed a pup that had cornered a ground hog and simply stood barking, totally unsure what to do now. Well…., after a couple of minutes a girl with a good bit of experience wearily got up and slowly headed over. Walking up, she wobbled past the pup that was bravely staying back so that the ground hog might more fully enjoy its bark. There was a drunken feint and a (surprisingly) quick second short strike. Two seconds, game over. She turned back for the porch and walked past a silent, dumbfounded pup. It was time to nap some more on the porch you see.

Oh my……, a convert. The pup had taken really good notes because it suddenly had a new purpose in life. Within the month every undesirable critter on the farm was gone and the pup sought permission to hunt other properties. This I remember fondly. I remember the holding the elder after ending her pain and I remember the exploits of that younger mutt. I remember that we can be rickety and accomplish difficult tasks. We can struggle yet teach. We can wobble yet lead and we all can grow. We just need to continue getting up and returning to the fray.