Not really.

But I'm a salary slave.

I knew it, oh how I knew it. I really didn't want to take this job because I knew it'd be the same old situation with just a different twist. But I got guilted into it by family and my own conscience of not having a laid out plan or investors for my new business idea (s), so I took it because it was offered to me.

Hard to turn down a job that just shows up at your doorstep. It's like finding a puppy on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Only not nearly as cute. Anyhow, I worked 80+ hours last week, and am fucking tired. I worked until after 7pm last night and got a work call at 7am from one of the bosses this morning--not to fear, I'd been up at work since 6:30am. I don't know when my next day off will be...and...ugh.  I feel like quiting (not joking--I even sent off a nasty response of an email that I copied to everyone; you know how you do stupid shit like that to get fired? That'd be me at this point in time).

In other news and speaking of puppies--we're getting one. Notice no exclamation point. And it's not just in case evil cat of hell happens to read this (she hates exclamation points unless they're only used for an exclamation. Like yipee!).

Remember the story about the crazy guy who started fire to his estrange wife's mother's porch and then sent the cops after them? It's a long story--but the short version is he's quite ill, just got a great pyrenees puppy and wants someone to 'look after it' while he gets better. He knows the puppy will be safe with us and especially since we have experience with these large beasts.

The thing is, he's very ill it sounds like. So we're basically getting the dog, unless he makes a rapid and unexpected recovery. Mutual friends of his and my father are telling us he's not much longer for this world, in their opinion.

So my father and mother are going over tomorrow to pick up the puppy. I'll soon have two Jeffersons. I have no idea exactly how old this puppy is, or what it's name is. But if we end up keeping it for good, maybe we'll have to change his name to Aaron Burr.

Oh and the teacher that I had who's brother had a pretty impressive role in No Country for Old Men? Saw him and his wife this weekend. That was nice. Told him I saw his brother in the film and it took me until the end to realize it was his brother; but what fun that must've been for him (the brother). He said he got a call offering the job, but he thought they meant come in for an audition. But they really just wanted him to take the job and were worried he'd say no. Who'd say no to the Cohen brothers? Crazy eh?

It was good to see him. Another person to befriend in town, although it seems kind of strange to become friends with an old high school teacher for some reason. He's a lot closer in age(i'm guessing no more than 10 years older than I) to me than any of my college professors were, but it seems more reasonable to hang out with them as friends than him. Probably because in college you're a lot closer to being a true adult than you are in high school. Ugh. I suppose if he wants to hang out from only knowing of my high school years, I'm off to a good start--I think I'm more interesting now. And high schoolers tend to be cRaZy.

Although I could just be full of myself. I was probably more interesting as a high schooler and a lot less crazy than I am now..

I'm not making sense. And I gotta get back to work. Hopefully I can finish before it gets dark so I can take the dog on a walk. He's mad at me. I won't even mention the cat. Don't be surprised if you read something in the paper about a neglectful pet owner getting mauled to death by her cat in WA state.

The fucking weather, man.

We had a few very nice days. Then the wind began to blow. Hard. Like that porn star that did Dallas.

You'll excuse me for talking about the weather. But being back home, and surrounded by farmers, that's a serious topic of conversation. We don't talk about the weather because it's ruining our weekend plans; no we talk about the weather because it's ruining our income.

If there's a cherry crop this year (by the way, Washington grows more sweet cherries than any other state in the Union), they'll be very, very expensive.

The weather's been weird bad. Windy. Cold. Dry. Windy. and Cold.

It's middle April. Last night the low was 28 degrees. That's not supposed to be the case. At all. The pass was closed because of snow storms. Yesterday it snowed. Hailed. And rained.

My uncle has lost a couple of circles of carrots. Rot problems with the onions--and my poor, poor garden is struggling.

I also was fooled by a few 70 degree days and planted annuals in pots that are not frost tolerant.

Damn you mother nature...or jack frost or whomever I need to damn, but damn you anyhow.

---

It's very strange to be watching a well known movie and recognize someone in it.

One of my high school history teachers (whom was a 'young' teacher therefore a 'cool' teacher) has a brother who's an actor. This brother was in No Country For Old Men (which is very good if you haven't seen it--but if you don't like the gore of McCarthy novels, you won't like the movie either). Weird eh? This is the second time in my life where I've watched tv and thought "I know that guy" and it's been true. The first time was after I met this brother-actor in DC and came home from the trip, turned on the tv and saw an NYPD blue episode or some such thing and there he was.

This time it took until the end of the movie when the credits rolled for me to realize that I really do 'know' him--rather know of him and hung out with him one weekend, many years ago. But you know, kinda cool. Actually really cool for him: imagine being in  a Cohen Bros film, period, let alone getting to stand up on stage to receive an oscar as a group, eh?

Funerals aren't really meant to be joyous occasions, even if you believe in a glorious after-life. And there are those people who request that the funeral be fun, before they pass, so they put together really hilarious photo montages to share with those whom attend the funeral and people tell fun stories (this happened at my cousin's funeral a few years ago)--but while people could laugh and smile, most people were also crying.

---

Yesterday I spent the morning planting the garden and seeing if any of the seeds I planted way to prematurely for the fucking weird cold snap we had (that last forever) made it through the weird weather (surprisingly yes).  While planting the tomato plants and using those awesome water tube things. While doing so I thought how fitting it was.

The first time I saw those things, over ten years ago, it was at my sister's father-in-law's house. He grew something like 10-15 tomato plants in his garden and he always started them extra early with these things.

He gave tomatoes to neighbors and friends throughout the season. People who lived near him stopped growing their own tomatoes because Ken, my sister's father-in-law, would insist that they take his tomatoes and stop bothering with trying to grow their own.

My sister began to employ that tubing system and shared that it really did help grow those tomatoes. But none every looked as good as Ken's--his garden in general was beautiful. He was retired then, he retired in '92, and spent his retirement tending, lovingly, to his garden and going hunting and fishing. Many times he'd return and we'd get the families together to have a huge bbq of fresh caught salmon, crab and veggies from various gardens.

Ken was a quiet, shy man with a very strong persona, despite the lack of words. Someone who worked hard, had a successful life and shared it with people.

---

 
Why was it fitting I was planting tomatoes with the water-tube system? Because yesterday was Ken's funeral. I woke up, went outside (it was gorgeous), planted things, got ready and went into town with my parents and expected to enjoy the funeral to a certain extent.

As I said above, funerals are never fun or happy, no matter what we want them to be. We're there to grieve the loss of someone that we felt a connection with. But Ken passed after a painful battle with cancer. He was 80, and he had a good life. Therefore there's a feeling of peace for funerals such as these.

But. boy oh boy...Ken's youngest daughter is a Reverend, and Ken and his wife were always church going folks and felt strongly about their faith. But I was never under the impression they took it to that level that creationists do, or I would never describe them as evangelical.

Being an atheist, I always feel a little uncomfortable going to church, but never has shied away at funerals. Or weddings. Two reasons: One) you go to celebrate the life the people you're honoring (whether it be in a new life or death) so it doesn't matter how you feel about god or religion. Two) I think that most people of the cloth get this as well. And that there are, hopefully, people attending these ceremonies of all backgrounds and religions and it's somewhat important to respect that.

Of course some religions don't feel this way (mormons) but you're not really allowed to attend if you aren't like minded, anyhow. And there are those religions that have ceremonies they need to stick to (catholics) but we all know how those go, so you get ready for those long marriages and the incense...

So Ken's daughter the Reverend gave an evangelical sermon of a funeral service. It was so very preachy, I almost felt like I was going to burst into flames. It also was too personal. Just as in any family, children have problems with their parents. When the Rev. was going though intense counseling to become a rev. she was told that her father was an unkind and unloving father. I could go on and on about more things that I really feel very differently about. But during the service this theme came up and ended one particular diatribe with a very tearful and forceful, while pointing a finger at us all "I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW MY FATHER WAS A GOOD MAN!"

We did. That was why we were there. Perhaps you need to tell yourself that, honey. The sermon was a way for her to explain her complex grieving to herself.

That is not how you conduct a funeral service.

Anyhow, it just ruined my day. The only touching part of the very long service (it lasted two hours) was when they asked friends to share memories of Ken--those were the kind, amusing, antidotes shared by close friends of Ken's who golfed with him, fished with him, accepted his tomatoes.

Meanwhile, my tomatoes are doing great. And when we begin harvesting them, I think we'll all think of Ken. Those are the kind of memories you want to have of someone who's passed.

This is intriguing to me--anyone on it?

Dreams are funny, especially when they're yours and you can laugh at yourself for having such a dream, right?

The other night I had a dream that we had a baby: