How many years ago was that?

I woke up this morning in a black 1949 Ford on my way to Jetmore, Kansas.  One kid in the front seat and 3 more in the back seat.  Going to go see Grandma Seeger.  Jesus!  How many years ago was that?  It must have been about 1968 or 1969.  I was newly separated  and it was my day off so I was trying to keep some sort of continuity in my life.  I had shaken the dust of Garden City, Kansas off my feet and was living in a 2 bedroom rented house near the Reformatory in Hutchinson.    Just off East Sherman but I do not remember the name of the street.  I doubt that it is still standing, because it was barely standing then.

The first thing that happened was when I called to have the gas turned on, they condemned the stove which was the sole heat source for the house.  That had to be fixed, of course.  Probably should have left the gas off as it turned out later to be a thorn in my side.  It was a constant battle to keep the kids from touching it and burning themselves.

I was working nights and sleeping very little.  I had done the laundry and not folded it yet so it was laying on my bed which was located on the back porch.  I set down in the front room for just a minute and fell sound asleep, only to be awoken to cries of "FIRE!"  Shit!  Debbie threw water on me and I was awake instantly!  Seems dear Sammy, turned the kitchen stove on and poked a piece of paper in the flame to see "What would happen?"  He did not want to burn his fingers so he threw the burning paper on my bed full of clothes.  Need I go into detail?  Of course I do.  I immediately began dousing the fire with water and finally had it out and no smoke was coming from it.  To be on the safe side, I drug the mattress into the back yard.  I called a friend of my brothers and he came and hauled it away.  I am not sure the landlord ever knew where his mattress went.

Smith!  That was the name of that street.  That was my baptism by fire into the world of single parent life.  The girl who lived across the street babysat for me.  She also babysat my only pair of jeans I liked. Remember that when I left my husband I weighed 92 pounds so I was considerably thinner than I am now.  Actually, there could be 2 of me now!  She also releived me of my class ring and my wedding rings.  That was also where the kids got ringworm.  Sam filled the gas tank on the Ford with sand.  The old $150 Chevy that I arrived in Hutchinson threw a rod and I bought a 1949 Ford from Jake's friend, Clell.

You must know that back in those days, child support was optional and my husband opted out.  Welfare was there to help single mothers, but if you worked, they did not help you because you had an income.  Since I worked and could see no way to feed us if I quit, I never drew welfare.  No welfare, no alimony, no child support.  I must say part of the child support not coming was my fault.  My husband explained to me, as if I were a couple bricks short of a load, "You wanted the divorce.  I did not.  You have the kids.  I have nothing.  You should be paying me because you took them away from me."  And in my befuddled, insecure little mind, that all made good sense.

After a time the roof began to leak and the landlord would not fix it so my mother let me move into her house over on 5th Street.  That also brought a change of employment and began my career as a cook at the Red Carpet Restuant.  The husband moved to Hutchinson and took a job at Cessna.  We reconciled for a week or so and then he left town because he "just could not do the boring existence thing."  Welcome child number 5 and a tubal ligation!

I dated a radio personality and learned to decorate wedding cakes.  The radio guy turned out to be a real jerk but the cake decorating turned into a fairly lucrative part time job.  I dated a guitar picker and learned how to sing country!  When Christmas time came, his mom gave me 3 pairs of cotton underwear.  Never really got over that and so much like Glen Campbell or Hank Williams, I moved on.  Then  I found out just how good booze could be and it could always be depended on to see me through the rough patches.

And now I dream about those days.  When I was there it was a constant battle and there were times I wondered if I would survive.  There were days and nights when putting one foot in front of the other was the only hope I had.  Just one more day.  One more night.

Got to end this here because I am starting to feel sorry for myself and I do not want to do that.  That is how life becomes unbearable.  Just gotta keep my shoulder to the wheel, my eye on the prize and take it one day at a time.

Click to play

The storm clouds gather...

One of my favorite things in life is clouds.  I have albums full of them and now I have my Picasa albums full of digital pictures.

 This is a fairly harmless shot of "maybe if we get together we can make rain" clouds.

This is a shot of drifty, buttermilk looking clouds at Garden of the Gods on one of the AIDS Walks.

.

This looks like it could really do something.

So anyway, you get the idea of the cloud fetish.  I want to go on record now as saying the clouds that are not clearly defined and hang over our heads like a foggy blanket are the ones we need to watch out for.  My state is being devastated by a silly thing called "rain".   For most of the summer we prayed for rain.  "Oh, Please God, just a little rain."  Our world was withering before our eyes.    Remember that?  Three feet of hail in Denver! 

I took Stockyards Road home on Thursday and the conflux of the Arkansas and Fountain creek was visible.  Arkansas was clear and calm.  Course it flows through the reservoir, but the Fountain was a ugly, angry brown mess.  Bear in mind that it had travelled 35 miles down here from up North and it had lost some of it's furor along the way, but it was still enough to terrify this faint little heart of mine.

It made me think of the people who are in the "eye of the weather".  How frightening that must be to have the rain just keep coming and watch your street fill up and see your property line shrinking.  It was bad enough when the fires were burning up on the mountains, but now there is nothing to stop the water when it races down hill.  And the faster it races, the more debris it picks up.  And our "powers that be" just nod and say, "Oh, a hundred year flood.  That is what it is."  Kind of sad that the loss of property and life is written off with such a simple statement.  Course there is always FEMA.

Here are my thoughts on this phenomenon;

We are a mighty nation.  We shake our fist and nations tremble.  We open our checkbook and nations grovel.  We smile and nations simper.  But when the storm clouds gather, no one is in charge.  Mother Nature has the last word.  (In my simple mind, Mother Nature and God are one and the same, but I shall call the entity Mother Nature in this missive.)  Mother Nature can not be controlled by mere mortals.  She causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust.  And she keeps no time table.  She sends earthquakes to destroy temples and fires to consume the dead wood.  She washes her earth clean.  And we, being mere mortals that we are, fall to our knees and tremble.  We beg.  We grovel.  We try to explain it away, and  much like the fires in Yellowstone, we wait.  We wait and we know that soon the green shoot of grass will appear.  The tiny pine will peek from the forest floor.  The roots will go deep and cling to the bosom of Mother Earth.  In a few years we will have a forest again and God in his heaven will smile!

So for now, I will continue to collect my clouds knowing that some day I will be seeing the very bright sun!

You can not sprinkle showers of happiness on other people without getting a few drops on yourself!