I spent a large part of this week hauling dirt from the hospital to the far corner of the lot at the shop. My employers are filling low ground to develop, so nothing beats free dirt! Of course, they’re charging the contractor to haul the dirt away, the same as if it was being taken elsewhere. The soil is a rich, sandy loam, and would make good lawn or garden soil, but it has a little debris in it, so it’s going into the fill. It’s coming from under a paved parking lot, and contains a few old bricks and cut stones from the homes that once sat on the site. I’d guess they were from the 1800’s, from the style of stone and brick. I couldn’t help but wonder how many native artifacts might be mixed with the soil that was going to end up under stone or concrete again. I worked down there today (Saturday) also, not something that I normally do. My wife was upset, but the next pay should be a little larger.
I’m getting better at shifting my “new” truck at work. I still miss some gears, but I think that’s because I need to be more careful about matching ground speed with the gear that I’m going into. That means that I need to get my RPM’s lower on the gear that I’m leaving. Then again, one of the other drivers said that it was a difficult truck to shift; so who knows? I DO know that this truck is more awkward to dump with than my old one. The power-cord to my old CB went bad and I haven’t yet found a replacement, so I got a $35 model from the Chinese Emporium that seems to work alright. The steps into the truck are high up and 22 inches apart, so I’m about ready to ruin my knees climbing into the cab. I stopped and got some parts to make a wooden step between them and spent nearly $18 for two 5/16 threaded rods and 12 fender washers. Prices are ridiculous these days!
I saw a funny sight on the road yesterday. A tow-truck was towing another tow-truck belonging to one of their competitors. That must have been embarrassing for the company whose truck was being towed.
I’m finally going to have to address a problem with the state tax department. I forgot to include the W-2’s with my form and they can find where I worked for two months at telemarketing last year, but (strangely) haven’t come across my present employer, where I worked FIVE months last year. As a result, they’re trying to charge me over $500 in taxes, when they actually OWE ME about $150. THE JERKS!
I’ve decided to get rid of the copies I have of “Primitive Archer” and “Wilderness Way” magazines. I finally realized that I’m too old and out-of-shape to ever bother with most of the stuff shown in their pages. The magazines were only published for a few years, and I think I might have complete collections of both. I don’t really know what to ask for them. They’d bring good money in some other part of the country, but things are hard to sell around here.
The single cicada that I mentioned a few days ago has now been joined by 10,000 or so of his closest friends, so the night air is now filled with their “singing.”
I had a strange dream a couple nights ago. I saw a little girl, about 8-10, sitting in the front yard of a big old house downtown as I walked by. Her blond hair was pulled back into a pony-tail, and she was wearing a full-length light blue dress that had a peasant look to it. She looked as if she was too hot and seemed sickly. She also had tears in her eyes. I went over to her and asked if she felt badly and she said that she did. I then asked if she wanted me to get someone for her, and she said yes again. I knocked on the front door of the big home, expecting some grandmotherly type to answer for some reason, but no-one answered. I finally went inside and through a grand set of pocket doors and found a moderate-sized party going on. I found that the owner was a middle aged woman dressed in clothes a bit too young for her. I asked if she realized that her daughter was sitting outside feeling ill. She replied with a yes, but told me that he’d be okay.
“HE?,” I asked.
“Oh yes,” she replied, “we’re just trying to deprogram him.”
Suddenly, the room filled with other mothers screaming at her for ruining her son’s mental health. Then, I woke up.
I detest living in a society that causes a person to even have such dreams. Oh well, I suspect God will straighten it all out before long. © 2015