7and8

I went to "The Grill" this morning for an omelet. A 93 year-old gentleman came in with HEAVY assistance from his wife and daughter. He lives on the cape now but had lived in town for many years. He made the trip especially to have breakfast at this little place that has changed owners and names a half-dozen times.
It was so uplifting to hear him talk to everyone about old friends and drug stores with soda fountains that are now jewelry stores and barbershops. You could hear how happy he was just to be here once again.

God bless you sir. And here is to the glory days.

For those of you who do not know yet; I got a job.
It's a seasonal, temp thing doing one of the things I do best. Now comes the test of 'do I enjoy it as much as I am good at it?'
I'm not jumping for joy or singing "Can't touch this" like I did when I got my first jog because 1)Hammer does hurt some people and 2)at this point in the at-home gig I don't know how we ever managed when we both worked.
I'll miss walking the dogs and not being in a hurry and being able to drop everything to handle a crisis or just for the fun of dropping everything.
I've been confused, upset, depressed and unsure about being at home over the years but I have never been 'sad' (in my experience sad is profoundly different than depressed).
I am, however, sad to leave it. I find myself hoping I don't like the gig or the lifestyle it requires even though I know I like being in the game.

This is why I BLOG to y'all:
As I sit here typing I realize I'm sketching this as a black and white decision. I hope I can remember in the thick of the new routine that I don't don't have to have it one way or another. I can create a path that works for us and for those parts that don't work I can refine or reject them.

Here is to enjoying the view from our own paths.

We took a walk through the wood yesterday with 7,8 and the dogs. We are traipsing in the woods enjoying the Indian Summer (or should I say Native American Summer). The wife is going on about something significant in our lives and she mentions how nice it is to be working with ones 'passion'. 7 doesn't miss a beat, "Mommy what is passion?"
The wife and I exchange frightened looks and take one of those parental opportunities to broadens the minds of the boys.

It turns out 7 has a passion for selling wreaths.

So after huffing out the last few miles of a charity ride this weekend I was feeling like I was more out of shape than I thought.
I go to spin out my legs the next day and during my pre-flight check find that my rear wheel is damn near immobile. I check closer and find that a spoke is broken and the wheel is deflected so that the rim is pressing against the brake...hard. I was pushing this whole thing those last few miles and didn't know it. Good news, I'm a stronger rider than I thought; Bad news I'm deaf and blind to have not noticed how bad this was.

The car has also been making a funny noise. Maybe I should just turn up the radio.

I still got it. I just fixed a computer problem without laying eyes nor hands on the PC. The person just said, "Bla, computer problem, bla" and I was able to suggest the proper course of action.

A simple victory but an important one to someone who hasn't been in the trenches for many years.

Next time I won't even say anything I'll just bang the PC with my fist and give two thumbs up.