In my earliest memory, I was standing on my tip toes, trying my best to watch my mom cooking on our 70’s green counter-top. I remember being excited, hoping to sneak a taste of the cake she was making. Growing up, food was one of […]
Fifteen or so years ago (boy am I getting old) I had dreams of owning a recycling business. Reusing old scrap metals wasn’t quite as fashionable here in the midwest and neither was the idea of women driving dump trucks. Back in the day, my dad was part owner in a demolition business. I can remember going to a job site after many days of begging and pleading. You see, little girls didn’t do such things like exploring old factories. I remember one particular building we explored was an old laundry factory. It stood about three stories tall. Inside was slide that spiraled from the top floor to the ground floor about 30 feet high. Oh and I forgot to mention the fireman’s type pole. That was before OSHA and of course no one told mama.
So a couple of weeks ago I was called to recycling duty….or should I say Fred Sandford duty. How and why….just know I did. Yes, I drove a loud pick up truck to what used to be called a junk yard but what is now a recycling center. If I were single, suffice it to say there were plenty of helpful guys, business owners, driving expensive rigs, but I digress….I saw all sorts of big boy tonka trucks, tractors, rail cars, chippers,
etc. The recycling centers are big business. Our recyclable metals are taken to the centers, sorted, chipped, sold to China for pennies on the dollar, while China refabricates our junk and sells it back to us. Hmm. Just thinking.
The trip to the junk yard brought back old memories….and what ifs…
It’s about 7 when we pull up alongside of a road cut that I’ve been eyeing for the last few weeks. I had conscripted my conspirator in the dastardly deed into collecting some rock samples this Saturday morn. We, or should I say he, grabbed about 20 good sized rocks and we scurried home. It’s hot and sticky and here I am bent over with a hammer and a makeshift chisel splitting rocks searching for fossils. So far not one, I was just about to give up. I picked up my last rock, carefully looking for seams. I placed my screwdriver along the seam and stuck the head hard enough to separate but not cause it to crumble. The rock split perfectly. No fossils, but instead the gray stones interior revealed an unexpected iron oxide deposits with dendrites that reminded me of those beautiful sonoran desert scenes. Instant nerdgasm.
For the last six weeks like many of you I’ve been riveted as we watch our nation go through this season of growing pains. I don’t know about you but for me everything is off, I’m behind in my gardening, I missed my Mothers Day post, Memorial Day celebrations have come and gone, and now Father’s Day is upon us. In a way, in this season of change is much like the spring weather here in the midwest. I’ve witness lightening while snowing, snow at easter, extreme heat, tornados, and gentle rains. But here in the MO and particularly in the land of the “big canoe” or the “show me state” after the storm we are witnessing change and hopefully peace that comes after the storm.