01 February 2017

Notes - the day / SC.Ch.9 nfd



       After noon. Bill H. arrived mid-morning to install the new garbage disposal from Amazon; friendly fellow who was interesting to talk to; he had the old one off and new one installed in less than an hour. You signed on his iPhone with your finger induced signature, something you are still getting used to. - Amorella

       1228 hours. I certainly don't get all the letters legible but it must be close enough. I could have done the job if the arthritis was a bit kinder to me. I could have still done it but it would have probably taken half a day. Such is life.

       Nighttime. Lunch at Penn Station, a nap,  supper, a half ham and cheese sandwich each, at home after watching NBC News, "Bones" and  "Madam Secretary". Carol is upstairs reading and you are about to work on chapter nine. - Amorella

       2127 hours. That is my hope.

       2233 hours. We completed the chapter.

       Add below and post. - Amorella

       2234 hours. This is not what I expected the chapter to be like.

       What did you expect? - Amorella

       2236 hours. I don't know really.

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Nine nfd ©2017, rho, Soki's Choice

       Soki here. I leave my Betweener post sometimes. I see the Living as being nowhere whereas the Living may view my setting may be viewed in the same fashion by the Living, that I in a like setting, nowhere. Analogy is a key with no firm lock and can be reopened with further thought. So, to begin, neither the spiritual setting or the physical material setting is nowhere. I, the Soki, as a Betweener can touch both bases in analogical thought because of consciousness, not conscience. I, the Soki, view the Living, in part, innocent. The Living without much reflection can also view spirits with conscious 'being', as innocent. On the outer wheel 'way in the middle of the air', so to speak, is the Rider. He, metaphorically, is the rider on the wheel. It is with him that I periodically have conversation. This recent between-these-two-chapters conversation is-an-was about the Living human's perceived sense of 'fate' and 'accident'.
       The Rider suggest that I ask: Imagine yourself dead for a moment. In your now spiritual sense of consciousness, what would be the meanings of the words 'fate' and 'accident'?
.         
       Blake sits comfortably in the pilot's seat, Pyl is co-pilot and Justin is in the third seat back so he can see out both sides equally. The Cessna 210 is flying east at 150 miles per hour and 16,500 feet above the eastern Cleveland shoreline. The three are enjoying the visual pleasantry of the sun behind the crispy clear blue beyond a layer of thickening rain clouds below.
       Blake’s appraises the beauty of flying the Silver Eagle in full sunlight on an otherwise cheerless, dreary day in early March, when the engine abruptly stops cold.
       Blake and Pyl automatically check the fuel, ignition and air to the engine. Improper combustion. All three tighten their seat belts. Pyl attempted to work the dead radio. 'Slow descent', deduces Blake who is well trained for a variety of outcomes at any given point. He tries the engine several times then once again. Nothing. 
       Pyl states crisply, "Ashtabula County should be below the clouds shortly."
       "We are in a good, controlled glide," humors Blake. "How you doing back there, Justin?"
       He replies, ”I’m fine. You two do what you need to do. I'm fine." At least we are not going straight down, muses Justin following Blake’s lead.
       "Good." says Blake, "If we can't get it started we will land on an airstrip, road or a farmer’s soybean field. We have time to think this out."
       "Fuel pump?" questions Pyl.
       "No, it shouldn't be. I think it is vapor lock but I am not sure why. She was going along pretty as you please."
       "As a kid we had vapor lock once in a car in Death Valley. We survived,” relayed Justin.
       "You visited the Valley in July, right?" counters Blake while feeling and checking the rate of descent . . .
       "I don't know what is wrong with the radio, Blake,” responds Pyl. “We have electric except for the radio."
       "Cloud ceiling is about three thousand feet. We have plenty of room, plenty of time." Here we go through the top.”
       "Ashtabula County Airport, HZY in Jefferson; 924 feet above sea level," notes Pyl. "But we cannot contact them."
       “Making adjustments,” says Blake. ”They should spot us visually."
.
       At-the-same-moment, Ship sets itself thirty feet above the Cessna with blackenot narrow-banded to also camouflage the Silver Eagle as it drops below the clouds. The airspace between Ship and the plane thicken into an appearance of a fractallized mirror from the ground. Seeing the town of Ashtabula Blake glides southeast towards I-90 and the Ashtabula County Airport beyond. Ship remains parallel above the Cessna as it continues a long steady glide for a safe landing. Blake puts the wheels in down and lock while readjusting the flaps up.
       Pyl asks, "Why don't they see us?"
       Dumbfounded Blake replies, "I don't know. I don't understand. And, we have no damn radio." He attempts to restart the engine one more time hoping they will at least hear the plane. The engine re-starts. Flaps are down for better control. The fuel line appears to have condensed, he reasons. Then the plane begins a slide like it is on a sheet of ice. Blake realizes he is going to overshoot the runway and just beyond and slightly to the south Blake observes the deserted township road, Route 193, lying straight east. He calmly states, "I'll land on the road."
       Pyl adds, "Do it."
       "Go for it, Blakie,” comments Justin calmly, “looks good. No one in sight."
       "Land where the road cuts through the woods. Nothing but fields before and after but up ahead are houses," declares Pyl, feeling the Cessna is under control even though the engine again stops. "You are on the mark."
       The wheels touch the rough tar and chip road pavement. "Down." states Blake while breaking the wheels. When the three climbed out their first focus is on the engine.
       An older man ambles up from near the tail section saying, "Can I be of any assistance?"
       Yermey stands surprised when no one responds. He takes a step closer but freezes in a sudden apprehension. Behind him another louder voice, "Pyl. Blake and Justin, how are you? What happened? Why the forced landing?"
       Ears electrified in shock, the three earthlings turn and can hardly believe their eyes. Here stands Fran and Hart with an unidentified older man. The earthlings see no car or ship nearby but the women standing next to a stranger like they had been waiting for the Cessna to land on this otherwise empty road.
.
       Where, says Soki, is 'fate' and 'accident' in the heartansoulanmind of each, Pyl, Justin and Blake? That is, which word came first and from which part -- the heart, the soul or the mind? If you are not sure, ask yourself the same question of heart and soul and mind in context with the story.
       This is an example of how it is for a Betweener to deal with the Living. It is also an example of how it is seeing the Living while dead.

       60 ease; 8.2 grade; 1032 words
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