Item three) do good work. Do something. Do something good. Anything.
Glimpses in my mind that I want to write about, my memories during my four day dirt nap, yet now is not the time for that. Not nearly enough time to tell even one story well. And well, I suppose that is what I am doing here.. most days. Telling stories, goodish stories I hope.
That however is secondary to the journey, what is the journey? Well, for me, in this context at this moment (delineated here, I’ve referred to this ‘journey’ phrase vaguely over time.) It’s the mission at hand. Right now? The journey is to write this post. This morning the journey was to make a list with some small steps that I could accomplish, then do them. And I did, yet I did forget to put ‘walk mile one.. mile two..’ on my list, yet I digress, as that is not the topic at hand.
Arranged for the sale of two of my three skydiving rigs. My two little ones, a matching set. This makes me sad that I will never see them again, yet I knew that when I left. To any that wonder, I did bring one rig with me; my blue mirage, that one I will carry for life. It is a sufficient size to fit any canopy I’m likely to fly in the foreseeable future (Ha! What does that phrase mean to me now?) As also it fits me well, actually, it fits me better when I put on weight (in two thousand eighteen when I bought it, I was one hundred ninety five pounds.)
I have flown from one thirty-nine to a ninety-one square foot canopies in it, the ninety-one was loose though. It will not hold my eight fours (five canopies I still hold, three Xaos eighty-fours, my Xaos ninety-eight, and ninety-four I got from Kody. The ninety-eight seven cell fit perfectly though, that’s the one I’ll be aiming to get back into. Sub one hundred and plenty fun enough for me. Once I can run fast enough to land it.
Also made the first motions to figure out something to do with my house in Jackson. It’s silly for it to sit empty when people are looking for good places to rent. It’s also silly for me to pay a mortgage myself when there are people looking for good places to rent. Just took me forty five days to actually commit to the plan. Starting again, a new plan, a new week; pray, move, work.
Did the work to do it, finally. Actually, the work met me halfway. I had it on my list and was next on my agenda after texting for a while with my youngest son, and Patrick called me. Timing was just off, as I had went to take a leak and just missed his call as I tried to jog/skip/limp at speed back to my site as quick as I could. A short round of phone tag, and then my offer. Take my house, please.
I’m kinda, just barely holding myself together while living in my car/campground. Taking care of myself better in small increments. Groceries just a few days at a time, fresh meat and salad every day, fresh fruit almost everyday and lots of protein snacks.). Keeping my small car and site clean, keeping my mind working on relearning some old skills and having fun with new hobbies. Working my body and my leg constantly- I haven’t been great on doing the miles, yet the gravity leg work is constant- OCD constant.
The weather here (now that the cold and wet is gone) is back to beautiful (and I’ve been watching NM, cool nights, yet days are looking good for long sleeve shirts.) And being outside is good. Outside people can see me and I want to keep busy, keep moving, keep doing good work. Not that I always do stay busy, I rest as needed- maybe a bit too much in the last few days.
Of course this is the initial pitch and many details will have to be worked out.. What to do with a houseful of possessions? Certainly some I’ll make sure are packed and stored.. somewhere. A box or two of photos is all, and anything still hanging on the walls. A wall of certificates that I never fully displayed in any office – as it started with my GED.
Tangent: IF (which I don’t) I had time- here is maybe a point in the case of where my issues began (or is it what my issues are?) I was proud of my GED when I accomplished it. It was cake’ishly easy. I took each of the five tests, passed them all and had to take no additional classes. Yet, certainly I would have been better off with a more regimented education. Or for that matter, more regimented discipline- I often wonder what would have happened if I would have enlisted after I was emancipated.
Better not to talk about my education and let others assume the best. Ahh, one of my favorite Abraham Lincoln quotes “Better to let someone think you’re an idiot, than to open your mouth and prove them correct”. (Sufficiently paraphrase to be unquotable?)
Always playing that game on the take. Dress well, shave and groom well, and have firm handshake- that client already assumes you graduated with a Bachelor degree in something, everyone has. Act like you don’t need the contract. Act like you don’t need them to write a check so you can buy groceries on the way home. Those things will reduce your perceived value and you’ll have a negotiation on your hands instead of a deposit check.
Choices past are a waste of space. Today had some good choices, lets start there.
Morning started well, I like the tent inside of the shelter. Lets me climb out of the tent without fear of a public debacle; yet it is tightly crammed in there next to the table, which does not make it easier to exit. Yet I do like the privacy.
Walking back from the bathroom I ran into Matthew, my new next-door neighbor in the cove. He and his wife have three dogs, Tank, Nugget, and Rex. Rex is a cute little puppy. Tank is a beast. All look like your average black lab mixes, maybe a little pit in the mix too. I got to meet them when they had me over for dinner last week.
Though I would not have gone out of my way to say something, as to each their own in their enjoyment of their camp life, Matthew brought up the topic of their dogs in our conversation. He told me that the park rangers had told him they had issues with the amount of dog feces that he had left at his last site. (Before he returned to become my neighbor.)
He was frustrated as he shared this with me and he also shared he had diligently walked the site to clean it all up.
I can certainly see this from both sides. I have picked up dog shit before. I have raked it up. I have given up and mown over it.
Responsible dog owners, on public property I told him, carry little shit bags with them so that they can pick up every piece as it’s freshly laid, ensuring none is left behind for others to deal with in their enjoyment of the public space.
He paused- actually delayed while he thought. He came back to the frustration that he had diligently walked to site to clean it all up.
I am glad that I have made a friendship with Mathew. Some conversations are hard and they’re better when coming from a friend.
I told him I knew how hard it was to pick up dog shit, it takes forever and it stinks. You get as much as you can and at some point you have other things to do. He nodded along in total agreement as I restated the facts he presented me.
I followed with, the park just thinks that the little bit you left was too much. They wanted you to get every little turd straight from the dogs ass with a little baggie.
I didn’t smile, dog shit isn’t funny. I do love Matthew and I love dogs, and I love happy neighborhoods. They sound nice. The last weekend was so nice – it sounded so nice. The three days he was gone, there were no dogs barking and no generator running. Neither bothered me before, or now – I still love dogs, and dogs do bark, I still love electronics, and not all people have solar setups. Yet over the weekend when I didn’t hear those things, I did hear children playing hide and go seek (a few families’ children all have new camp best friends) the like til well past dusk, coyotes barking in the distance, crickets, cars passing by on the road out of the cove.
With my experiences on the Council in Jackson, I took a lot of phone calls from angry neighbors. A lot of phone calls from angry neighbors. I would always ask, have you tried to talk to them? This would usually result in a list of the officers that responded the last time they tried to talk to the neighbor and an additional complaint about the officers as they had refused to do anything about their problem either.
If you can do so peacefully, try to have a conversation with your neighbor, start with a wave and a smile and go from there, I would often advise. By the time they were calling my number, I don’t think many of them ever had the patience to try it.
I can’t smile and talk about dog shit without laughing, so I was just calm and patient and helped (I hope) Matthew see the ‘other’ side, or the other point of view. As I told him, if I moved into a new site, and there was dog shit all over, I also would likely call the park to complain and/or have to move sites myself – I don’t even have dogs- why would the next camper want to deal with even the little bit of dog shit that he couldn’t pick up with a fine toothed comb?
Which people- is why you don’t use a fine toothed comb to pick up dog shit at the end of two week campground stay. You use little plastic baggies and collect each sample like a special souvenir.
I was not rude or demeaning to my neighbor as I should not have been. It was a beautiful morning and we were having a pleasant conversation that started with a smile and a wave. Mostly I gave him (continually from when I first saw him) the respect and dignity due to every human being as the master of their own being. When he brought up dog shit, well I had to be myself on the topic of dog shit. There is a right way and wrong way to handle it. In your own property you can do what you want, yet at a campground you better bring some ziplocks.
He didn’t have much to say, I wasn’t mean or angry, rude or demeaning, attacking him with a comment from a distance or any such thing. My friend brought up dogshit and I shared my honest opinions and knowledge on the topic in my best effort to enable him, if he chooses, to better himself as the master of his being, hence the master of his campsite.
The conversation continued after he turned and yelled again for his dogs to stop barking….. no more time, same story, substitute dog shit for dog bark. Yet, I think my technique here worked – I more effectively communicated my knowledge and the benefit of my experience to him (I think.). Whoever is in site fifty-eight next, let me know!
Hours later (work on car, good day, eleven fifty, gonna hurry). Two guys with a pair of dogs came walking down the road. Nice enough guys; less then polished one could say, vagrant looking even, even for camp life. One asked if I could give him a ride to a party store a few miles down the road (not Hoff’s, towards Alice) for fifteen bucks. Having only room for one, two in an emergency, and not likely with the two dogs as well, one offered to stay behind with the dogs, as the asker would go alone with me.
Flashes of a thousand scenarios ended in a moment of yes, I can help – if you’re willing to fit in. The passenger seat is moved up pretty far to accommodate the fridge behind it. Eleven fifty six.
Gave me fifteen dollars. Drove there, bought beer, pop, and bottled water. Gave me one beer when we got back (dropped him off at his own site).
Ends up they are both train jumping travelers, backpacks and dogs.. on foot here, looking for a ride back to the highway to thumb.
hours later second guy comes around to offer me another beer. we chat. he’s cool. he asks if I like speed. conversation ensues.
honest about my drugs. oxy problem. almost two months clean. injury story.. adhd.. vyvanse..some for sale? NO.
yes for a ride, no for a sale.
medicine not a drug. ask your doctor.
time to rest.