Monday, June 22, 2015

Pretty Good Week Except for the Stolen Gas, the Parking Ticket, and All the Dead Chickens


I was looking forward to the kids being out of school.  I figured life would slow down, we could relax and take it easy, and some aspects of life would just fade into the background and stop nagging like a mosquito in your ear.
Nope.
But it’s not been all bad.  Life is pretty good for the time being.  Mandy was hired by the Powell County School District to fill a special ed position at Clay City Elementary.  That’s huge for us.  The entire fifteen years we’ve been married we have only both been employed with full time salaried positions for four months at the same time.  That was the four months after I started my job in Colorado before Mandy finished her previous teaching contract with Powell County Schools.  We’re not suddenly rich, but we’re suddenly less poor than we used to be, and poor in a way that’s tolerable and maybe even desirable.
Powell County Fiscal Court and the City Councils of Stanton and Clay City all three adopted the bike-ped plan.  That makes me happier than you can imagine.  A couple of years ago—heck, last year—I wouldn’t have dreamed that our small county would have such sweeping buy-in for a progressive bike ped plan.  And here we are.
I’ve also been working on a grant application for a new public river boat access at the Clay City Park.  If we get the grant that will help renew interest in the Red River, improve recreational access, and hopefully boost tourism in the long run. 


Boone’s been at camp last week, and Tuesday night Mandy, Lily and I were in Lexington.  We stopped at Mellow Mushroom to have dinner.  I wasn’t thinking about the adorable fascist policy of parking enforcement by the University of Kentucky and we walked out to find a parking ticket on the windshield of the MBDV.
And when we got home we discovered two loose dogs and a slew of dead chickens.  The massacres just get more gruesome as the Naughty Dog perfects his psychotic craft.
Oh, and I didn’t even tell you about the stolen gas!
On Saturday I filled up the gas can with the intention of mowing the hayfield we call a lawn.  Five gallon can.  It cost about $12 to fill up.
Saturday afternoon someone knocked on our kitchen door and then ran off with the can.  The kids saw the perp.  The perp looked like my cousin’s baby daddy.  Baby Daddy told Mandy that it was some guy we’d never heard of when she knocked on their door Sunday afternoon.
The kids maintain that it was Baby Daddy who walked off with my gas can.  We’ve decided to chock it up for loss and count it as a lesson learned.  Gas, mower, tools, etc are all now locked up in the shed.  Our house doors are locked now.  It was a good wakeup call because for two years I’ve wondered when some pillhead associate of some of my family members would just walk in and take our stuff without asking.  Well, now we are taking precautions. [conversely, I spoke to Baby Daddy after writing that part and I'm pretty sure it wasn't him, and I talked to my cousin--or rather she stopped and talked to us, warning us that her dad was moving back in--and now I am pretty sure it was just more of the migrant criminal element. See next paragraph]
This morning I listened to a voicemail message from my Drunk Uncle.  We’ve been working with Drunk Uncle in his garden except for this last chaotic week.  He called to warn me about seeing needles along Chainringville Road.  That’s where Bean rides her bike.  I am not happy.  Like a rabid, angry, mother bear I am not happy.  It’s time to make known my distaste for the criminal element that speeds up and down the road by my house.
Over the weekend we paddled the Middle Gorge at Tomahawk’s behest.  I was unaware that in the twenty-some odd years that Mandy’s family has lived in Kentucky that they had never paddled the river.  Of course we now all want boats. 


 
This is kind of a rambling jive.  I wish I could get back to more thoughtful pieces on more concrete topics.  Hopefully soon I can wrangle my free range mind into submission long enough to crank out some quality writing.
Things are getting churned up in my brain.  That’s never a good sign.
Anyway, I have failed to get from 195 to 193.  In fact, I am as far from this week’s target as I was when I started.  Like I said, this past week man…

 

 

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