Paul is home and Owen is in Day Care. You are heading out to breakfast at the Inn on Coventry. . . . You were dropped off while the others went shopping. You are feeling lucky as you almost lost four fingers of your right hand when you did not notice the back car door was open and ready to be shut when you were pulling yourself out of the front seat of the CR-V.
Strange, I could almost feel the fingers gone when I pulled my hand away – they were no more than a second from being crushed. I did have the ring finger of my right hand crushed once while I was carrying groceries to a customer at Hamilton’s Grocery on the old south end of Westerville near the railroad tracks. I unthinkingly slammed the door on it myself. Even today the tip of that finger is a quarter inch wider than the ring finger of my left hand. When I lost weight I was able to take my wedding ring off and never put it back on because I never got it resized. Carol took hers off too. Ever since, for some reason, we have gotten along better, more compatible, but that happened just before she retired in ’04. We are even more compatible today – like when we first were married.
No stress of school teaching, no job stress. I think it was the tiredness of attempting to be at your best for your students and fellow colleagues during the day. Politeness ruled the classroom behavior and you had to continually attempt to set the best example. That’s how I remember it. The older you grew the harder it was. The last ten years I would come home and nap for an hour to an hour and a half and go to bed between eight-thirty and nine and get up at five of five every school morning. Ten years before that I would nap maybe twenty to thirty minutes once home from school. As long as I can remember, bed at nine during the week and up by five. People who say teaching is easy have never taught. I loved it nevertheless.
Time for a break here, orndorff. Post. – Amorella.
You were home before twenty-hours and twenty minutes. No problems, a couple of stops, once for fuel. Unpacked and not ready for bed. Carol is on the phone with sister, Mary Lou after talking with Kim.
I’ve been thinking about the marsupial Holy Day without religion and politics. One would think that eventually Diplomat Burrows would come up with something, in fiction six, that would bend the rules of both cultures as she is a hybrid of Earth and ThreePlanets on the other side of the Galaxy . . . something that would be a positive reflection on both world civilizations. No one has ever come up with something better but faery tale Utopias or parodies of Utopias. That’s not like Diplomat. She is a what you see is what you get character. What comes to mind is the rules of the road throughout the world. Safe and practical sense as the tone of ‘something conditional that most everyone on the two planetary systems could live with. People say such a thing is impossible, but that’s what Diplomat is, impossible (or almost so). It would be a fun attempt for later, that is, if you could help me out Amorella.
You want the near impossible from me, Amorella, who you consider near impossible.
It seems reasonable, at least in a fiction. I like my readers to think so I want something that will allow them to think further as long as it fits within the guidelines of the books.
Then what about the Dead, particularly the combination of the human Dead as well as the marsupial Dead?
That is good, especially since the human Dead appear to ‘live’ without politics as usual. Their religion is rather loosely defined to in that some don’t believe in the Greek Pantheon and others do. No observation of Holy wars so far in the books.
Nor will you see any, boy. – Amorella.
Well, it is a rather outlandish idea, but then so are the books as far as I am concerned. Something neither above nor below politics or religion as usual, something parallel to both, so pride in both cultures can still exist, pride without arrogance, if that is possible. Red, green, and yellow are colors that people observe simple rules for and politics and religion don’t seem to be a part of the culture of the road. Anyway, it is a thought so I wrote it down.
No promises, orndorff. – Amorella.
That’s all right. I am probably venting.
Post. We’ll put it on the back burner, so to speak. – Amorella.
Hope is not involved here, Amorella. I don’t care that much, they are just books. It would be funny though if things could be twisted around to the point that readers might say, “Is he kidding me? Is he twisting my mind into a near impossible position?”
Now, that is more like it, dark, dark humor, your favorite. Just like ‘messing with your students’ minds over the years’.
Yes, that will do, Amorella. That would be fun, I love messing with peoples’ minds – but for the cause of evoking thought and freedom of thought.
Enough for tonight, orndorff. We can probably come up with something. Post. – Amorella.
Sounds good, Amorella. I am thinking of the conclusion of the story I cannot remember the title to, nor the author. Aggghh. Flying saucer lands in Washington – 1954, I think. What is it? . . . . . The Day the Earth Stood Still. Not the film the story the film was based on. I know this and cannot remember. . . . Love Google: “Farewell to the Master” a 1940 story by Harry Bates.
Not everyone would see the humor, orndorff.
I don’t care. I think it is a great line. I love it. What a twist.
A little too dark, old man. Let it go for now. Get a good night’s sleep. – Amorella.
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