Random Musings for the Day

Yes, I've built up a lot of things I've wanted to express, but nothing really worth having it's own little forum. Hence, I will lump them all into one. Let's also note that it's not anywhere near as cool as it was in my head because my husband STILL has not gotten me that taperecorder. He doesn't read this either so I'm pretty much doomed.

If you ever ask me for directions to my house, you'll notice there are a lot of strange landmarks along the way that I refer too. I do this because, well, where else are you going to see these random things? You'll KNOW you're on the right road. You're going to pass the trailer with the green tractor on the roof, the farm that rents the purple earth movers, the house with 10 large field tractors on the front lawn, the house with 1/2 of a rusted barge in the front yard and the body of a small plane in the woods. I mean REALLY, only in the mountains. I'll also note that most of these fine homes and establishments are proudly displaying their "No Zoning" signs in their yards. FANTASTIC! Alas, times, they are a changing. I was driving home the other day, and came around the curve where the rusted barge sits. I guess after so many years, they've gotten tired of the barge sitting there, and have started to dismantel it. The TRAGEDY! Piece by Piece, it's leaving the yard and going, well, somewhere. I told my husband about the development, but he wasn't as shocked as I was. He had good reason. They've taken away about 1/2 of the 1/2 barge. They haven't touched anything else in a month. SO, now, you'll pass 1/2 of 1/2 of a barge. You can obviously see where the other 1/2 was by the open spot of dirt surrounded by grass and CRAP sitting out visible and in the open! Now I've got to go alter all my direction sheets!!!!

Cadbury Egg's people. WHY! WHY are the Cadbury people so mean that they can only produce this product for 2 months out of a 12 month year? By the end of February, I'm searching the isles for the elusive eggs and stock piling what I can. By the end of April, they're gone. G.O.N.E.! I mean really, here's 2 months of chocolaty goodness and now P.O.O.F! GONE! Fuckers. I have 4 packages left and I haven't been doing a good hording job of them. Co-workers keep coming in asking for them, and darn it, I'm Too NICE! Maybe if I stuff them in the electrical panel that is hidden behind my cork board, no one will ask me anymore. Kim, you say, why not hide them in a drawer or take them home?! HA! You think it's that easy? Nope, they'll be found and gobbeled! I don't know who pissed off the Cadbury Egg people, but can we all write some letters and get them to be a year round candy? It'd save the little amount of sanity I'm allowed to claim! Isn't that considered charity work? HELP SOMEONE! This, which I stole from someone else's page, is by far the cutest thing and could help me overcome by Cadbury Egg cravings for a few moments.



I thought there was more, but I was mistaken. It'll come to me in the middle of the night and I'll turn, looking for my taperecorder that ISN'T THERE! I'm off to work. Maybe I can accomplish something productive today. I won't hold my breath if you don't hold yours!

It all comes back around....

There are parts of your life that you leave behind. Every now and then you have a thought of the past, some good, some bad, but for the most part, they're just passing thoughts. I moved back to, what I call, my hometown a few years ago. I lived here through my adolescence years when all was good and rarely anything was bad. When I moved, my life changed. Ever since I graduated high school, though, I knew I wanted to come "home". It took almost 10 years to accomplish that, but here I am.
To me, everyone who I knew here is stuck at the age of 13 or 14. This is the age I was when I left. I look at faces as I walk around town, but no one looks familiar. People change a lot in 15 or so years. Their faces aren't what I remember. Some do look the same and others I just can't recognize. Then there are those that recognize me.
I walked into a bank last week to make a deposit for work. I sat my bag down on the counter and hear a voice to my left say "Don't I know you?" I look over, and sure enough, yes, he does know me. He grew up just down the road from me and was a year younger. I always had a crush on his older brother, and his mother was my 7th grade Psychology or Sociology teacher. We shared a mutual friend who also lived down the road, who I was close to and grew up with. During the course of our conversation on how long it's been since we had last seen each other (we ran into each other my sophmore year of college) and how our families were doing. He mentioned that our said mutual friend was finally getting married. I can assure you, his mother is probably VERY happy! I remember seeing her at a yard sale and her asking if I was married. When I told her yes, she said, Oh, my sons not. I giggled. Her son was my first kiss. I'm glad he's getting married :). Anyway, we wrapped up our conversation, said our goodbyes and I went on my way. One thing was lingering though. During our conversation, he asked if I had gone to someone's funeral, another friend who was in my class. I said no, I couldn't recall who that was. It hit me about the time I got to my car.
A few weeks ago, our town had a funeral service for a Sgt killed in Iraq. Actually, there were two who were killed in the same convoy who were from this area, the other funeral was in a neighboring county. Anyway, this Sgt had worked for the county, had been a father and was my age. He graduated from high school the same year I did. I remember thinking how sad that was for his family. A coworker who had previously worked for the county went to his funeral and brought back the program from the service. I glanced over it, did my greiving for the unknown and went on my way. Until a few days ago. He wasn't someone I was close to or someone who I interacted with a lot in middle school, but I knew him just the same. I could picture the picture I had of him sitting in an old photo album. He was smiling and someone was holding his arms back, making sure he stayed still for the camera. It was our 8th grade ice cream social. I was taking pics because I knew I was leaving that summer. This is the way I remember SSgt Joe Ray.
And this is the way that everyone remembers a hero who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country on March 12, 2006