Friday, January 22, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Passing of an Era
Sad is all I can say about the little 88 Ford Ranger. It was like a family member. For me it was like a close friend. It took me to places I had always wanted to see. It moved me around through many states. It was old and beatup...you would be too if you had survived 2 teenage drivers plus a traveler...and was 22 years old.
Born in January of 1988, the truck came into my possession with 34 wonderful miles. I fell in love with it and made every payment for 5 years. It was a trooper. The things that truck and I shared is amazing. Now, after 22 years, it decided to lay down and throw a fit, or a rod as the mechanic said. Now it becomes a donation to Kidney Kars, a local organization that helps kidney patients, and is a tax deduction for me.
I do get to keep the license plate (Utah CM8819). That has significance because I had a baby, got divorced, and bought my truck, - talk about stressful! But 1988 was a good year and it was the beginning of a great adventure. A 22 year adventure.
But like all things temporal, the truck had to stop running sometime. It went far beyond it's life expectancy and it was a 'good old truck'. Thankfully when it died (on the Interstate no less), no one was hurt..It just kinda gave out its last breath.
So, now we have to look for something to fill the gap...maybe...because for sure it can't be replaced. I just hope that I can find the title!!!
Born in January of 1988, the truck came into my possession with 34 wonderful miles. I fell in love with it and made every payment for 5 years. It was a trooper. The things that truck and I shared is amazing. Now, after 22 years, it decided to lay down and throw a fit, or a rod as the mechanic said. Now it becomes a donation to Kidney Kars, a local organization that helps kidney patients, and is a tax deduction for me.
I do get to keep the license plate (Utah CM8819). That has significance because I had a baby, got divorced, and bought my truck, - talk about stressful! But 1988 was a good year and it was the beginning of a great adventure. A 22 year adventure.
But like all things temporal, the truck had to stop running sometime. It went far beyond it's life expectancy and it was a 'good old truck'. Thankfully when it died (on the Interstate no less), no one was hurt..It just kinda gave out its last breath.
So, now we have to look for something to fill the gap...maybe...because for sure it can't be replaced. I just hope that I can find the title!!!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Talking
The hardest part of growing up is talking.
I really thought I had learned how to talk as an infant. Then I had to learn to write so that what my brain thought, I could put down on paper instead of out my mouth. I know that I know a lot of words. I use lots of them everyday. BUT, I have also learned that there is a difference between talking and communicating.
I can talk to lots of people. I do it everyday. Most of the time it means little. The normal 'elevator talk' is such that I don't remember half the time what I even said and to whom I said it. Then there are the 'rounds'. I make those every work morning to check in with people and catch up on work issues. Sometimes family issues. Sometimes just gabbing.
Then there is family. They don't appreciate my efforts of surface talk. They want to actually have me sit down, look at them, and converse with them. No, I'm not kidding. For them, the chat mode is not acceptable. But chat mode puts distance between me and those around me. My family wants more. They want me to participate in their lives in a different way than I participate with people at work.
When I listen, I can't have anything else on my mind. Imagine, trying to process only one thing at a time! I am not good at this. I have tried to analyze it, but it comes down to, I am not sure that I want to hear what is said. Although I may be successful in many areas, I am still sensitive to 'not being good enough'. I may hear it over and over, but there are still scars from younger years of 'not being good enough.
I am not sure writing it helps, but maybe that is better than just keeping it inside. I don't have a picture for this one. It would be a storm of internal conflict that I had hoped had worked itself out years ago, but it hasn't. Guess it one of those things that I keep hoping I can outgrow. Maybe I will never outgrow it. Maybe I just have to grow into it...can't hurt to try.
I really thought I had learned how to talk as an infant. Then I had to learn to write so that what my brain thought, I could put down on paper instead of out my mouth. I know that I know a lot of words. I use lots of them everyday. BUT, I have also learned that there is a difference between talking and communicating.
I can talk to lots of people. I do it everyday. Most of the time it means little. The normal 'elevator talk' is such that I don't remember half the time what I even said and to whom I said it. Then there are the 'rounds'. I make those every work morning to check in with people and catch up on work issues. Sometimes family issues. Sometimes just gabbing.
Then there is family. They don't appreciate my efforts of surface talk. They want to actually have me sit down, look at them, and converse with them. No, I'm not kidding. For them, the chat mode is not acceptable. But chat mode puts distance between me and those around me. My family wants more. They want me to participate in their lives in a different way than I participate with people at work.
When I listen, I can't have anything else on my mind. Imagine, trying to process only one thing at a time! I am not good at this. I have tried to analyze it, but it comes down to, I am not sure that I want to hear what is said. Although I may be successful in many areas, I am still sensitive to 'not being good enough'. I may hear it over and over, but there are still scars from younger years of 'not being good enough.
I am not sure writing it helps, but maybe that is better than just keeping it inside. I don't have a picture for this one. It would be a storm of internal conflict that I had hoped had worked itself out years ago, but it hasn't. Guess it one of those things that I keep hoping I can outgrow. Maybe I will never outgrow it. Maybe I just have to grow into it...can't hurt to try.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Portraits
I do not often find a picture of myself I can look at for any length of time. My son, Jon, took this and as I cropped and played with the color, I decided I could look at it for a while and share it with others.
Why is it that finding a pictures that tells a story about myself is hard? I usually and looking through the camera, not on the front end of it so I just don't have a lot of practice. I am highly critical of photos I take anyway, so looking at myself is hard.
Then, too, I am getting older. I have several years and a few extra pounds that I just hate putting in front of a camera that adds to both. But then, what is reality if not a picture of life. I will let this one stand. It really symbolized where I like to be and what I like to be doing. Hopefully I can put more up on my Facebook site and other places, but that would mean I would have to get out from behind the camera and I don't know how comfortable I am doing that.
Hum.
Why is it that finding a pictures that tells a story about myself is hard? I usually and looking through the camera, not on the front end of it so I just don't have a lot of practice. I am highly critical of photos I take anyway, so looking at myself is hard.
Then, too, I am getting older. I have several years and a few extra pounds that I just hate putting in front of a camera that adds to both. But then, what is reality if not a picture of life. I will let this one stand. It really symbolized where I like to be and what I like to be doing. Hopefully I can put more up on my Facebook site and other places, but that would mean I would have to get out from behind the camera and I don't know how comfortable I am doing that.
Hum.
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