The Soda Bottle Kid

                          The last days of school

The gloomy rain of May seemed to make the last few weeks of school
drag even worse for Rodney. Staring out the window of math class and
thinking of summer, his friends and how he would get the gang together.
Ten minutes until the bell, and then the long ride to his house. Ton and Tank
were making faces at him, the fattest twins in the 7 grade ever, Rod thought.
They were good enough guys, and he thought maybe they would join the gang
this summer.
   BBBRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG. Schools out!
The bike seat was wet and Rodney wiped it with his sleeve.
He rode, dodging rain drops, past the feed store, over the bridge,
and then the long mile of gravel home. He went past the dumpy house
where Lenny the Hippy lived. Lenny was out in the the yard, Rodney
waved but, Lenny didn't see him. He passed old man Walts' place.
He was welding machinery in the shop, the blue spark made him
see spots for a bit. He liked the old farmer. He would let him ride on the tractor
or in the combine during harvest.
    He turned his bike into his driveway, there was Clipper lying in the yard,
waiting for him. " Come on boy let's see if there's something to eat",
Mom or Ed wouldn't be home until 6 o'clock. Long enough to down an apple
with peanut butter and some milk. Clipper liked peanut butter,
Rodney let him lick a whole spoonful, and laughed
when it stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Mom would kill us, if she saw us pigs,"
Rodney said."Let's go to the club house, Clipper". 
The club house was the worlds greatest, an old barn that
nobody used anymore. Rodney had converted the grainary part
into his personal corporate headquarters.
Along one wall and old sofa and chair, on the other a desk and chair.
A single naked bulb that still worked, would light the room after dark.
The other room was a huge oats bin.
  Rodney would usually stay outside until he had to go in.
Talking to the dog, or himself about his plans for the gang that summer.
He went to the house for supper, he would get the usual small talk, how was school,
what did you do, was it raining on your way home?
He would answer with as few words as possible.
Not that he didn't want to talk to his mom, it was
Ed that made him feel small. Edwin Foremann
had married his mom a few years ago, and ever since
 Rodney knew where he stood. He was no
longer top dog in the house. He had pretty much lost his
special time with his mom, and had to make up his own fun, his own way.
After dinner he would watch tv, or head to his room upstairs of the old farm house.
He crossed off another school day on his Coop callender, 12 more days left.
Then he could start his plan for the summer. Rodney had figured out that the whole gang
working together, they all could get new bikes by the end of summer.

     His room faced east, and got the morning suns first light.
This was good because he would be out early looking for bottles, on his way to school.

Note: I thought maybe the boy should have story, tune in for more.

There's this place

Lameshure Bay is one of the most beautiful spots on this
planet. A quiet spot on St. John that I had the pleasure of
anchorage. Very few sailboats were there which led me to believe
that it was a well kept secret. The first night we were visited by sea turtles
and jack fish at our stern. The fish helped eat our leftovers,
that we saved from Coral Bay the night before.
 The almost full moon painted a sureal picture above our boat.
Four other boats shared the National Park Bouys, an honor pay
15 $ a night system. Very protected from the land swell of the Atlantic
Ocean (north side) . We were rocked to sleep by a gentle breeze from the SW.
  The next morning, after a banana muffin, coffee breakfast.
We took the dinghy to the beach were we spent the morning snorkling.
We saw alot of tropical fish and coral, brilliant colors, and the bouyancy
of salt water made swimming easy. A red starfish and blue and yellow angel
fish were highlights. We also discovered the old ruins of a sugar plantation.
It was cool to see the huge pit burners that boiled cane to sugar.
The slave quarters still stood but only the foundation of the large house still stood.
Isn't it ironic? All in all it was a memory I will keep a long time.
There's this place............

Decks

So often people ask what are you up to?
As my project oriented life changes often.
In a word (Decks), but last year we designed
a deck for a client, and it has become our signature
pattern deck. A double border with a field of diagonal
and or herring bone planks. Now that we have done this,
we get a lot of referral work. People just love the design
work in the decks. I have toyed with diamond inlay patterns, etc.
I'm thinking of getting a quilt pattern book.
The post and rail systems are usually black strap iron ballisters
on cedar. I love the look of western red cedar, and the wood is
a fast growing responsibly managed forest product. (green?) the jury is still out.
So if you or someone you know wants a deck that's not just a linear plank
looking thing......I can come up with really cool planking ideas.
That's what I'm up to.

Someday Never Comes

All the lines of his plans were well rehearsed.
How he would make his first million,
then see the world and all it had to offer.
And someday write the novel of his adventures,
He must some how be cursed, Someday never comes.

The childhood dreams of designing and building homes,
erased by the hard work of plumbing, and digging ditch.
The days of sweat and toil for a pay check too small.
Returning to his home each night tired, drunk and alone.
Not understanding, or caring what the future was. Someday never comes.

Suffering in silence to the drone of his daily grind,
no longer capable of making choices, he forgets his dreams.
Responsibility of wife and children in tow, he drowns.
The pain in his body never ceasing, his work never ending.
Assured that he is losing his mind. Someday never comes.

'Tis a sad tale of a man who forgot his dreams,
Whos' pit of despair consumed him.
The lack of will, a bill of goods was he sold?
Of course he could have been rich and travelled the world.
But that would be predictible, this way it's poetry. And a reminder.....
Someday never comes.

Grandmas Stove

Sweet Potato Chick Pea Soup

2 Tbls Olive Oil
1 Onion, chopped
2 Cloves Garlic minced
2 peeled and chopped sweet potatoes
3 cups chicken broth, (2 cans)
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp paprika
1 can diced tomato
1 pkg of mixed vegetables
( I like the stir fry variety
Peas green beans peppers onion etc.)
1 Can Chickpeas, drained


In a sauce pan, heat olive oil and add onion, garlic and sweet potatoes;
saute 5 minutes.

Stir in broth, seasoning, and bring to a boil,
then reduce heat to med-lo simmer until sweet potato
is tender, but not mushy, about 15 min.

Stir in tomato, mixed veg, and chickpeas,
simmer until tender about 10 to 15 min.
Serve hot. (I was real tempted to add chicken to this,
but it doesn't need it.)

Rock-n-Roll

Promises under a black light poster,
A hit a piece, a 12 hr ride for sure.
Red wine and weed to soften the rush to the peak.
It's you and I, We've opened the window
and let the devil in.

Led Zepplin, Houses of the Holy,
on a turntable, skip and hiss.
Hammer of the Gods, more wine and weed.
It's comin on, the sparkles on your halo glow,
It's you and I, The Who, Who Are You.

Touching you feels a mile deep, soft flesh,
Van Halen tee slowly falls to the floor.
Could the sun have gone down during all this?
The street light adds to the rooms swirl of color,
breathing ever closer to our venture into the abyss.

Grateful Dead, Sugar Magnolia, and the sweet smell of wine,
The smile, turns to hysterical laughter, a trip to the bathroom,
and gently touching you again,
The promise of more, before the dawn.
Dancing to the Guess Who, These Eyes.

Bob Dylan, Tangled Up and Blue
reminds me of a lost love,
The thought of seeing her again.
Drifting slowly back to earth,
Pink Floyd is eclipsing the dark side of the moon.

Sunrise, Allman Brothers, Can't Lose what you Never Had.
A tune that keeps me from drifting too far.
Gently spins as we fall to sleep, Curled together as
the fantasy comes to a close.
Rock-n-Roll had it's moments......

Old Truck

Hey that's a cool ol' truck would you sell it?
No, it's a part of my soul was my reply,
I bought it long ago when I was a young man,
and we've been through alot and made it this far.

It has brought me home, from many a jam,
snow storms, rain and such.
Gotten away from gun fights,
pissed off ex-wives, biker bars and more.

It has seen first dates and kisses.
Saw courtships that lasted, and some that didn't.
It was with me when I fell in love, long ago.
Brought my son home when he was first born .

This truck has never failed,
I've grown attached to it,
It's hauled wood for the stove,
kids to baseball and the fishin hole.

It's old like me, but I don't care.
It's gentle growl has rocked children to sleep,
It's strength has pulled me from the ditch,
We kinda know each other, know what I mean?

I see now, why I could never buy it.
Please forgive my request.
Where you headed now,
Old timer, if I might ask?

I'm driving back home, you see,
to my home place, I haven't long to live.
So long a memory, So long a love affair,
I could never part with it,....by the way.....
It'll still do 125 if I hold her down!