I was reading a journal a few moments ago that caught my attention.
In it the author completed a survey of sorts, giving answers to
all types of questions.
I thought for a moment and decided I might type a few words.
I've seen them here, and read a lot of them, the surveys, but never
have completed one. Probably won't, because I figure that the minor
details don't really reveal much about who I am anyway.
Favorite this, favorite that.
I resist categories, probably because of some parental thumb print
from long ago.
I keep remembering a journal entry by an author who wrote about
things not being as they seem. If you saw me for a while, you might
make certain assumptions about who I am, what I am like.
But then a bunch of those assumptions might just be a little off.
If you saw me riding up to the grocery store on my Harley, you
might have one impression. But then what would you think when you
found out I went in to buy ball canning lids and pectin for the
raspberry jam I make in the fall.
I just sent 12 jars to eldest in college out west. She and her
s/o love the jam.
I love going fast, and I love to walk, and sometimes get down and
crawl through dark caverns deep underground.
If I see a radio tower, I might climb it.
I climb mountains and bake a mean trio of loaves of homemade bread.
My musical tastes can be shared with teenagers, or make them cringe,
and ride home with mom in a different car so they don't have to
endure someone like "Dr. John."
When an esteemed Harvard Law professor came to lecture, I removed
the video we were supposed to watch (the Verdict) and replaced it
with Mel Gibson's Road Warrior, cued up to show lots of barbarians.
I don't speed - well, not usually. Especially not off the freeway.
I've driven the autobahn at 110 with a 5 year old sleeping in the
back seat. I've been hit by other drivers 6 times, not once was
I at fault, or partly at fault.
I'll stop what I am doing to watch a bunny eat its way across the
Today a great southwest wind warmed our fair state from its recent
chill. Crisp dried autumn leaves blew all over the place, and collected
in a pile by the main doors at the office.
As buildings go, sometimes the wind whips around the corners and
gets trapped, and does a little dance, spinning and twisting and
whirling about. Today was such a day, and what did I do with that
nice pile of leaves in the corner......
I kicked them out into the whirl and watched them spin and twist
and crunch and dance. When they settled back in the corner, I kicked
them out again and again, until the playful wind was gone.
There was a mess on the sidewalk.
It would get tracked into the building.
I figured the wind would play again and blow it into the corner,
so I turned and walked back into the building, starched shirt and
all, to deal with the world of law and finances and tax.
Who'd figure? I am after all, the building manager.