A Doctors Waiting Room

While sitting waiting impatiently for a routine doctor visit recently I watched the world go by. A distraught lady wanted a pay phone because she had lost her cell. A non-English speaker was led around by a translator, and did all his personal business through him, while also managing his children. An ambulance was on the way for an undisclosed person out of our sight. Extra hands were recruited from all stations to help with that. Someone else waited for an X-ray. Another fumed because he had arrived 5 minutes too late to check in for his appointment.
All this made my 10 minute wait seem like a little thing.
As I left I ran into a poor man whose keys were locked in his car. I guess my life isn't so bad after all, I thought.

Spring Once More

The flowers knew about two weeks ago. The birds and all the trees are getting with the program. My lawn must have been the one to cue the flowers in, as it has been going strong for about a month.
In the weeks after Christmas, when it was dark and rainy, we longed for this Season. Now that it is here we see all the work it has brought back to us. Mowing, pruning, and other assorted chores are now the norm until almost Halloween.
However, a Summer here in Portland is a glorious thing. Some days there isn't a cloud in the sky, and the mountains seem close enough to touch. We sit in the evenings and dream of the tomatoes, or peppers in our garden, and wonder if we'll ever get any nuts off the tree before we are robbed by the local squirrels.
But the sitting and thinking part is still a long way off. It's back to the chores, at least for now.

writers block

How can I possibly have writers block? I don't even regularly write anything. Aren't you supposed to do this as a regular job? Have deadlines and editors, like Lou Grant, grumping about your low output? I guess I'll have to be anguisghed, and tortured, and so forth. Long hours staring at an empty page.
How did Mark Twain produce so much? Where did Shakespeare get all those snappy one liners? How can James Paterson write 17 books in two years? I know I can't rhyme as well as Dr Seuss, although I did eat some green ham not too long ago.
Just another dilemma for me to ponder between the games of March Madness.

a humble beginning for the return

Today I am consumed with the fact that a "young person" that I work with was unable to check the oil in his vehicle. This mundane task is required of all of us who are drivers. Actually, any adult, ( he is over 21 yrs,) should be able to accomplish this chore. It was beyond him.
When I was his age we were thinking about lofty things like a future on Mars, cold fusion, or life in a bubble under the sea. Also, we thought about beer, girls, and escaping the draft.
I'm still waiting for the first three; of the second three, well... my wife may read this.
It seems almost impossible to span the chasm between our age groups. He smiles at me and nods, as one might at an old fool that had recently lost touch with reality.
I don't know whether I'm more sad for him or for me.

I'm Back?

Due to circumstances beyond my control crazy people demanded that I return.
I retired this blog as a favor to humanity in general, and thought that was the end of it. Wrong Again. It seems you are to be tortured further by the inane babbling I post.
Since it took great effort, (OK, it was about 2 minutes) to re-open this, I'll let you off easy today.
Tomorrow, though......