Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
Gale had himself an appointment with the kidney-marble specialist yesterday to find out what they might do about getting it out of there. Haven’t heard the outcome yet. But what I’ve seen of him from the time they turned him out of the hospital until now leads me to think he’s going to be slow getting back into peak performance any way a person might view it.
This entire health event episode has hardened the realization for me that if things had played out differently I might have had to jump ship from this place with whatever cats I could take along, almost no lag-time. Got to devote some attention to pounding a hole in the wall of the Universe that includes something besides hitching out and finding a bridge to live under, minus felines.
If the Coincidence Coordinators allow it, that 1977 Bluebird school bus might provide the answer. I figure it’s going to take a month of stopping by there when I’m in town and nobody else buying it during the interim, but I might be able to beat him down enough eventually to be able to swing it. But if it works the price will have allow me to fit in buying tags and liability insurance coverage. Plus a tank of gas, cat food and a little for me to last the rest of the month from when it happens.
Once it’s out here I can work on it to make it capable of the cats and me living in it, while still working on the various things need doing on Gale’s place that he’s not going to be able to do for a while. The wildlife management plan he promised the county he’d do includes thinning the cedar, erosion control mitigation, etc., and there’s heavy lifting with me being the only one here able to do it.
I’m fairly determined to get his first year promises done before I leave here, provided he’s alive to need them done. If the bus works out, once I sense something complete in it, I’ll feel free to box up me and the cats and head for the sunset.
I’ve got a lot of stirrings in me churning around, telling me I need to be somewhere with more interesting rocks than a person can dig up here, the trees aren’t dying like flies, and the rivers empty into the Pacific Ocean..
The guy from up the hill told me when he was here that they’re crying for backhoe operators in the country between Uvalde and the Mexico border. Oil field work. So a stop out there a while to garner my resources on the way west might fit into the plan if the Coincidence Coordinators think it’s a good idea and the cats will agree to it.