Whew! I've been busy, but unfortunately, very little of it has had anything to do with music. I have been training my replacement so I can take on my own new job. But dang, I feel old! I've been working here longer than she has been alive! I am now #9 on the seniority list, a far cry from #287, when I hired in, in '98. On the inverse, it explains the creaks and groans of my achy bones...
Also, I have been winterizing the homestead, putting the summer patio gear away, rearranging the garage, putting the lawn care equipment in the back and moving the snow removal equipment up front. And the driveway, which now has far too many sets of wheels in it, with my wife's new car and the granddaughter's "for sale" Jeep. We've had that thing for a year and a half, but the wife is in charge of offing it, but is asking a bit too much, considering the milage and condition, so no serious inquiries. I am steering clear, until the city steps in.
And it is deer season. I took opening day off, and went out the first weekend. Opening morning was ruined by a mylar balloon which had descended into the bushes a few yards from my stand, flitting about, crackling and flashing in the breeze. When I went to retrieve it, I busted myself out, and an old, experienced "woods sentry" doe spent 30 minutes blowing and stomping, telling all the other woodland critters where I was. Then, Sunday, I hunted the entire other end of the property, nearly half a mile away. There is an unmarked continuation of a road that cuts through the parcel, the bane of my existence, with a bridge over a creek. Some 12 year old kid was at the bridge, all by himself, apparently fishing, yelling, and singing at the top of his lungs, and banging a stick against the guardrail. At first I thought it was another dumb motorist who had gotten stuck, but when I discovered what was going on, I told the kid, in my natural "drill sergeant voice" that what he was doing was illegal, and he had to leave. Of course, I had my rifle, which was cradled across my chest. He ran home and told mommy that I pointed it him, so right at O' deer thirty, a state trooper and a CO come rushing up on me. I wasn't hard to spot from the two track in my blaze orange camo coat, and the last, best, half hour of my evening hunt was ruined by them. Other people's children, I tell ya'! The only respite I got was the CO was going to go back to the kid's house and tell them that the kid was breaking the law, as there is no fishing from a road right away, and to leave the right of way is trespassing. Hopefully I never see him or any of his friends, again. But I don't have that kind of luck. Then, the state trooper followed me for about 5 miles, after I left the parcel, probably running my plates. I mean, really, I'm the one whose rights as a property owner (or in this case, legal caretaker) were violated, and the flashlight got stuck up my rectum. There just ain't no justice!
But, I have Friday off, and the weather is supposed to be warm and rainy, so I am going to hide in my manspace and bend some strings. More on that as it happens. I am trying to find a melody for the chorus of an original song, but it just isn't revealing itself.
Mediocre on! And may the universe bless you and the consequence of your actions, right wrong or indifferent.
