Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The wind is constantly shifting direction tonight.  So as the smoke revolves, I pick up my chair and move.  As I plopped down this last time, ping came the thought - this is JUST like life.  Shift.  Shift.  Which way?  Try this.  Then as the flames died, the smoke grew in intensity as a few more sticks were placed.  Then POOF.  Flames.  Yes - that would be just like life.  You never know the exact combination, but every once in a while the right elements for combustion will unite.

This is National EMS Week.  I think back to 1988 and why I even signed up for an EMS course.  It was to help a friend who thought he could not pass.  I figured since I was enrolled as a NMU student that fall, the class could only be beneficial to a resume.  He dropped out.  I remained not knowing really why.  This touchy stuff had me to the granite cliff edge many a night.

The last evening of class in February of 1989, I refused to fill out the state paperwork.  Suddenly I was called to the hall by the instructor.  Eighteen years old and the first time to be called into the hall by a teacher.  He said in so many words - what in the hell are you doing?

I told him that I never once thought I was good at this EMS stuff, I had only taken the course to help someone else, I was financially obligated and as a full-time student had too much to lose to just drop earlier.

That was the first time I heard about how some people are gifted with talents they perhaps do not see or want.  I listened.  I remember.  I walk that talk now with others.

The semester ended, I signed up for a lot of spring and summer classes, and then I received a call.  A person I had taken the course with and who lived nearby said that I needed to help the community.  Study.  Join the township service just as an extra set of hands until the state test was offered in August.  Guilt trip.  Total inability to say no.

The 4th of July weekend in 1989 was my first EMS call.  I had just received my huge red brick pager.  Orientation was here's a phone number to call when it alerts.  So I arrived first...to a rolled-over caravan filled with non-English speaking adults and children.

As I reflect and wonder what is next on my professional and personal horizon, I look at the experiences, the shift this way, then that way, smoke....smoke....and wonder what the next flickering flames will bring.






Saturday, May 12, 2012


There is a robin very unpleased with me right now.  I have not a clue where the nest is, but I looked around and certainly cannot find anything.  Quite amazing how vocal they can be.

Sitting aside a new fire pit in the back yard.  It's dusk and chilling down briskly so I popped in the house and put on Dad's old Navy pea coat.  My parents gave it to me the other day.  I have always been mesmerized by a bon fire - the licking flames, glowing embers, changing colors.  I can hear the fountain and also the popping of the wood.  It is the best, very best of both worlds.  In my dreams I wanted a home  that entwined a fire place with water.  This may be as close as I get.  

Dive bombed by a robin.  Sorry.  I pay the mortgage here.  At least for a few more months.

Started the day with a productive meeting about an upcoming emergency exercise, then a quick trip to the grocery store had a friend and me running into a very nice brush truck from Baraga.  So we introduced ourselves and checked out their apparatus.  I certainly would take that any dreamcicle over the Army truck we have that pre-dates my birth.

Raked for a while and discovered that I'm going to bring more rocks home.  Time to ground the place better.  Plus, I'll put them around the fire ring.  As I sit here thinking of how to spiff up the home and watching the bright planet in the sky, I think wow it is about time that I do work for myself.

Gave the Model A's another base coat.  I think tomorrow mine will be started.  The National Model A Convention is coming to town and I picked up some wood cutouts that will be hung from the downtown light poles.  My intent is to incorporate glow in the dark paint along with glitter and some fringe.  Are you scared yet?  On another note, I sketched out a logo tonight for a local race.  Don't have the software to make it look good, but I just had to put graphite to paper and get over the urge.

The birds have fallen asleep.  Now that is astounding.  The conductor put down the baton.

At that, I'm putting one more log on the fire...


Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  That was the home answering machine the other night.  Rare that anyone calls my home during the age of cellphones that are practically like another organ.  So I listened to it and then listened to it again.  A stranger somehow found my number and wanted information on hospice.  My first thought - this is different, but there's a Higher power that drives things in life.  I only know of hospice from when Grandpa was ill.  So, the next morning, I called the person back and we chatted.

In the past few days I have shared moments with two people challenged with the ever present lingering notion of when cancer will rear its head again.  A challenge to one's faith.

Tonight a call to check on a neighbor.

There have been so many of these types of occasions lately.  It is like I am getting this re-assurance of what Mom said the other night - you are a true public servant.  There is a reason why you have no spouse and children, at least yet.  As a friend echoed, your calling perhaps is to be with and give widely amongst people who know you listen with more than just an ear.  A person who takes the time to find answers after others have searched...even when it may be right there, yes right there, in front of their faces as those are the most difficult to self-see.

Up in the air a lot these days, I suppose increasingly so through this past year.  The house will be paid soon.  It was supposed to be the starter place.  My professional careers have taken me down so many diverse paths - well, it's Sybil-istic.  Not one to ever plan beyond a few days, and without an ounce of competitiveness or manipulation.  I was raised with the notion that women were to find men so they could be taken care of for their life.  While I have no qualms regarding that personal choice, I find it to be fertile ground for great limitations and lasting devastation.  Love is to push each other to a level where alone you would not achieve.  There are still a sect of women who purposefully seek those that will provide for their every want (not necessarily need) independent of the consequences to others.  The deep inner belief of two becoming one shall never be truly welded when one person of the package is there because of what he or she gets, instead of gives.  Breaks my heart to witness this erosion of a person for another.

Do unto others...