Dreary weekend – rainy and looking kind of Edgar Alan Poe-ish out there. Can’t go outside and sick of being inside. Thank the good Lord for wheels. Right?
So, hubby and I hopped to and got ourselves on the road only to be stopped by the train. We live very near some railroad tracks on the Boston to Buffalo line. Both of us hoped for a short wait, but as the big arms and flashing lights blocked our exit to freedom (aka the grocery store), we knew all we could do was wait it out. And then I thought, “Hang on! Graffiti – I love graffiti and side-of-the train graffiti is the best.” My face brightened as I watched. Spray painted and bold with block letters spewing forth phrases like “Go Bulldogs” and “Hey Man” assaulting my vision. But the best one was simple. The word “Chico” in chubby black letters (remember those from school?) setting in a cloud of white with a little green thrown in for good measure all running along the bottom of one rusty boxcar. Whoever Chico is, I’ll bet he’s beaming. I wonder if railroad execs secretly hire spray paint artists so we don’t go all crazy waiting for the 120 car train to go by. In any case, it’s nice to have some interesting reading to do while you wait, don’t you think?
Then, on Saturday, I happened to be in Walmart. As I cruised down the aisles an employee with a wide broom came towards me. An older man, longish hair and it looked to me like he and joy were complete strangers. I dodged his broom and zipped over to a clearance rack. Then I saw him again on my way to dog food. He was leaning on the jewelry counter as a fellow employee nattered on about fishers. “The only natural predator of porcupines,” he enthused, leaning in. The joyless man listened with great patience. “You don’t see hardly any of those around anymore,” opined his friend. Hearing this and glancing at broom guy’s face, I reassessed my opinion of him. He was a serious dude and perhaps reserved his joy for the chance of one day seeing an actual fisher (related to minks and ferrets) and hopefully not as road kill.
Sunday it was off to an afternoon of basketball game. #1 grandson is on a premier team and was plucked from his regular school team to play for them. HOWEVER, for this game he sat on the bench for nearly the entire time. Here was a situation that put those of us who came to watch in a bit of a snit. Yeah, we wanted our team to win. Yeah, we want Sam to be on a winning team. But our boy is our love and our favorite player and we came to see him. But I paused in my inward ranting when a thought popped into my stewing brain. Sam was a preferred player on his former team. While having to watch rather than play he may develop some empathy for those who sat on the bench all those games while he owned the court. It calmed me to think more in that direction than the other.
Life. Things happen. So - how goes it in your neighborhood?
Image: A Fisher Free Internet
Image: A Fisher Free Internet