A common thought experiment: If your house was on fire and you could save one material possession on your way out the door, what would it be? An easy one for me to answer, really. A large manilla envelope, inside of which are the typewritten pages of my father's journal, covering a span of time from 1985 to 2000. My dad lived in the pre-blog era, so his thoughts were preserved with a typewriter, which he loved (he went through several). I think he preferred it even to the computer he owned later in life. It was more...tactile, perhaps. His desk, with his typewriter, framed photos, various nick nacks, etc., was his favorite place in the world. His refuge, the one small place where he felt a degree of control. Most of his free time was spent there. I only wish his output was even greater, for there is nothing I value more of the things I own than the words he left behind. It is the closest thing I have to being able to talk to him now.
To a certain extent I have discovered as I read his words that we share a voice in our writing, the same basic cadence. Of course he had a habit of dropping profanity pretty freely. I no longer share the same comfort with it he had, but then again in a weird way I'm glad he did because that was how he really spoke, and so in reading even the f-bombs I'm hearing the old man as he actually was.
Most of his writing is a combination of the mundane events of the day and maudlin complaints over his job woes, relationship woes with my mom and Judy, and a great love and appreciation for his kids. He wrote knowing I would one day be reading it. I have tried to carry on his tradition, with the same bad habit of irregularity, to be sure. So...
Today was good. Ran a rework job on the boring mill, then went back to the CNC, which is nice. Gives me "butt time" to listen to some very interesting sessions from a guy named Michael Heiser on the unseen realm. Really fascinating take on a lot of Bible passages that seem rather odd because they just don't fit into the post-Enlightenment worldview we've all imbibed far more than we realize. There are great mysteries behind the veil, in the world our eyes cannot see. Again, fascinating.
Got home, intended to run with Jacqueline, but it was just too rainy. Really wish it would dry up for a week or so, Everything is just mucky, grey. Yuck. Made turkey and dumplings for dinner, tasty. For whatever reason decided to read through some of Dad's journal (hence the first few paragraphs above). It's about 9:30 now. Dumb dog Rocky is giving me the sad eyes, wants up on the couch. Nope. Kids are in bed, Candice in the shower, Return of the King playing on the t.v. Helped Rachel with her biome project tonight. Hoping to get the stairs built for Angie's trailer this weekend if it'll just quit raining. Overtime has picked up at work, so for now it looks like we'll get some breathing room moneywise, make a little progress.
Well, that's pretty much it for tonight. Think I'll catch up a bit on the news online, take my shower and get some z's. 'night.
