Today, I am filled with a sense of rightness I haven’t possessed in some time. I’m afraid to move too fast, I don’t want to disrupt this balance.
I’ve been busy, is that it? The printer, which was not scheduled until next Tuesday, made it’s appearance today. I wasn’t surprised, in actuality, but rather, was glad to be getting it over with, even if I was in the middle of breakfast. The guy delivering it was congenial and easy going, which is always a blessing. He actually accepted the proffered bottle of water, which is so unusual I was momentarily stunned.

What was funny was I went to sign for it, and he said he delivered one to Bowling Green not long ago. He got it all placed and plugged in and offered the sig pad to the guy working. Dude backed up and was like, “I’m not signing for that,” all wide-eyed. Truck driver was like, “Oh yeah you are,” and he says, “I’m not authorized” and delivery dude was like, “Well, I’ve gotta load it back up, then,” and the NRCS guy was like, “Oh hold on here, you can’t do that!” and the driver was like, “Hide and watch, buckaroo.” So long story short, the “unauthorized” employee signed and they got to keep their printer. I snorted and told him I signed for stuff all the time, because what choice did I have? If they want it, they better give me signature authority, or good luck catching a “real” fed here. I’ve never heard of a problem with me signing for anything. Maybe that guy was new.

Anyway, I’m dealing with all that when Addison calls. We were talking about David and ironically, I see David has messaged me on Teams. He’s sent some legitimate question, followed by “gobble, gobble”. I ask Addison what was up with the gobble gobble remark and he has no clue. Addison and I start talking about what I had for breakfast, and I see the dots bouncing where David is writing back….I get the message and it was what I had for breakfast. At this point, I am checking to see if my microphone was engaged or what, and more weird stuff comes through from David, and I’m like, “Is he sitting right there???” with my eyes squinted at their deception. Of course they start laughing like schoolboys and I called them turds.
Life is so much better with them than it was with their predecessor.

So yesterday I told y’all of the absurdity and audacity of carbs in crackers. Today Emily tells me she’s got the making for a faux apple pie. I’m wondering what the heck that is. So I show my ignorance and ask. I figure it’s just using apple pie filling instead of real apples.
Ohhh no.
You use Ritz crackers!! She says they’re all the rage on Tiktok and she’s gonna fix it and not tell her brother and see if he can tell.
Update: he loved it and had no idea. I think she had to show him the evidence. Is that not one of the weirdest things you’ve ever heard? Emily said you boil them for five minutes and they taste like and have the same consistency of apples, so it must be magic.

I’ve got plans to meet Kay after work. I’ve got my pink Lucchese boots on, but I might switch to my sassy Dolly heels. They’re fun but not always appropriate. Just have to see where we’re going.

I was born a fool in a china cabinet
Drawn to the delicate like it's a magnet
Perfume bottle on a mirror tray
Tempered glass on a window pane
Timeless face on a pocket watch
Time is ticking
I leave it all in ruins
'Cause I don't know what I'm doing
I'm hard on things that matter
Hold a heart so tight it shatters
So I stay away from things that break
Can't make a man a promise
With the best of intentions
Drive two hundred miles on a rundown engine
Put a blanket underneath a hollow tree
When the wind blows hard it will fall on me
Stick around long and you will see
Time is ticking
I leave it all in ruins
'Cause I don't know what I'm doing
I'm hard on things that matter
Hold a heart so tight it shatters
So I stay away from things that break
Me, I don't ever wanna get too close
Or be held responsible
For all the pain that you can't see
Somebody once broke me
I leave it all in ruins
'Cause I don't know what I'm doing
I'm hard on things that matter
Hold a heart so tight it shatters
So I stay away from things that break
~Miranda Lambert, "Things That Break" 

Amazingly enough, when I get to Aubrey’s John and Kay already had us a table staked out in the bar. I was floored. Not that John beat me there, but that Kay did. Because she called me when she was coming up Chapman, at Zion Hill. Thank God John offered to meet her in town or I would’ve been stuck there alone for hours. Oh, and I left my boots on. I decided the heels just weren’t worth it.

For whatever reason, we got to hear John’s life story. I think it was because I thought he was from Michigan. I thought that because Cyndie, his wife is, and I guess I assumed they met up there and moved down here. I don’t know.
But anyway, wonder of wonders, he was born in Oneida. His dad owned the only gas station in town, and they offered full service and mechanic work. I picture like Gomer Pyle’s station on Andy Griffith. This was the 60s, and the sticks, so I’m sure I’m not too far off base. They had a poker machine in the back, while condoms and naked lady magazines were sold behind the counter. Holler shine was kept under the counter in quart jars. His momma didn’t work there because she didn’t have to. John rode his bicycle there and to school. His uncle was the Sherriff and chief bootlegger, which is partly how they were able to run such a lucrative business. His other uncle was the undertaker. Another uncle ran the only mom & pop restaurant in town. .
At 18, he decided to join the Army and left home. He fulfilled his two years of duty, living here and there on bases. He decided that was pretty easy, so he renewed for another two years. Then he decided to move to Lake Charles because “I liked ships pretty good”. He had taken shop classes in high school and was a fairly skilled welder. He found a place to live above a hamburger joint, and worked there in the evenings and weekends for free room and board and a place to keep his Chevelle and truck.
One day, his boss came to him and said, “I have a once in a lifetime opportunity available to you, but you’ve only got 30 minutes to make up your mind.”
John was looking at him, kind of awestruck, I picture with his welding helmet pushed up on his head and is like, “Whatchu talkin’ ’bout, Willis?”
His boss says, “See that helicopter over there? You need to be on it before it leaves in thirty minutes. They’re needing an offshore welder.”
I forget if it was for Exxon or Texaco. One of the x’s.
John raced back to his apartment over the burger shop, grabbed some clothes, talked to his landlord who promised to keep his car safe, and fled to the chopper with moments to spare.
The following years would see him hanging off oil rigs and helicopters in the great blue sea, from England to Alaska.
John didn’t go home to Oneida again until he was 30, for the funeral of his best friend. His other best friend had shot him in a crime of passion. Literally. He was parking with his wife. John tried to buy the car, bullet hole and all, after the service. He said it could be fixed.

You just never know what you’re gonna hear, drinking at Aubrey’s.

Kevin called at some point and I drunkenly agreed to come see him this weekend and decorate for Christmas. Then I remembered I had a dog and Angela was in DC.
“Wait, I gotta check the weather. Chessie can’t get rained on.” He’s not like my smart dog, who lounged around in the basement when the weather turned. Kevin had offered to let Chester stay, too, but I hated to take him up on that. He does shed. And Kevin’s hardwood floors are in better shape than mine by a long shot. But really, I was more worried about him running outside when we opened a door, or busting through the screen if he took a notion. Plus, four hours on the interstate in Friday afternoon traffic is a lot to ask for one so high strung as him.
Anyway, it’s something to think about. I hate to keep shooting him down, especially in this time of need. He’s thinking of going to Montana for Thanksgiving and then his big Christmas party is the first weekend of December, so it’s the final countdown. We’ll see. I haven’t flitted off at all this year. Namely because I didn’t want to be accused of running.
Stand your ground. And here I’ve stood. I think I can abandon my post now, though. Seems all the fires are thoroughly doused.