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Showing posts from June 27, 2010

Back on the farm in Summer

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I trailered a towable man lift (bucket lift) from Georgia to New York. The thing that made it eventful is that I had to drive my truck. My 2017 Chevy 3500 HD service truck (with only 31k miles) is not my Tesla. I have grown very accustomed to the Tesla self-driving, navigation and general hi-tech luxury. The truck, although I am very fond of my truck, is stressful and expensive to drive compared to the Tesla. Being on the farm alone has been an eye opener. I had forgotten how quiet and in-nature this place is. Very occasionaly a car or plane comes by and disrupts the void, but only occasionally. It has been very reflective. It is the first time I have been up here from Georgia without a specific date I must be back for... or so it seems. "All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone."-- Blaise Pasacal mid 1600s. I guess I am working on humanity's problems. It can take a lot out of you. I feel good about some of the pics I ha...
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I have an apartment in Duluth. What a great deal. It is a 1050 Sq feet with a wood burning fireplace in between the den and living room, washer, dryer, exercise room, gated community, swimming pool all for 713.00 a month. I chickened out on buying a place on the lake right away. There appeared to be good deals in this market, but I still have to learn more. I snapped this on a 777 aircraft the other day. Some people will bring anything on as a "carry on."
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I was woke up last night about 1:00 AM. There appeared to be a party going on in the room next door. It wasn't totally loud. There wasn't any banging on the walls or anything. But it did wake me up and I didn't really get back to sleep for the rest of the night. When I went down for breakfast I noticed a "do not disturb" sign on my neighbors door. I was thinking these folks don't need that. So, I took it with me.
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Here is a poem, sent to me, worthy of repeating. "Designed to Fly" by Ellen Waterston After ten hours of trying the instructor undid my fingers, peeled them one by one off the joystick. "You don't need to hold the plane in the air," he advised. "It's designed to fly. vA hint of aileron, a touch of rudder, is all that is required." I looked at him like I'd seen God. Those props and struts he mentioned, they too, I realized, all contrived. I grew dizzy from the elevation from looking so far down at the surmise: the airspeed of faith underlies everything. Lives are designed to fly.
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I drove down to Florida over the weekend to visit with my Mom and Sister. I purposely retraced some of the roads I used a long time ago. I rode my KZ400 motorcycle to Florida alone 30 years ago (almost to the day). The roads looked a lot the way I remembered them. Although there were more fancy houses and Dollar General stores. The roads commonly had that "go on forever" look and drove into the vanishing point of tall trees. And yes, I did get a speeding ticket from a local sheriff.
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