Had a new rug put in last year. In order to get that done I had to move stuff out of the front room and that entailed dismantling the big box of cords and plugs that lives behind my computer screen and keeps my tv and computer running, which of course horrified me because everything is working just fine the way it is with each little connection singing together in a grand chorus which allows me to post on The Beaglestonian and to watch trash tv from my Prime account before I turn in at the end of the day.
I would have to disassemble everything which would not be that difficult, but then I would have to reassemble it all to exactly the way it had been before or else I would be as out of touch with western civ as a guy at the very top of Michigan with a busted modem.
I did a thorough study of what was back there. I Scotch taped a little note at the end of each cord, which due to the nature of cord and tape did not stand up well, untangled the Gordian knot and laid them out in a semblance of order, crossed my fingers and went to bed because the rug guys were arriving early the next morning.
I had a good thick book about the early beginnings of various religions and how they developed into oh, civilization. It was heavy reading but it was good reading, it explained stuff I had wondered about before and sparked new thoughts about my take on the universe. I sat in my Lazy Boy now tucked into my bedroom and read.
Of course the rug guys did not arrive early in the morning, or mid-morning, or late morning, more like a gentlemanly noonish. But I didn't care. I had my big fat book of deep thoughts. You know this is the way things used to be. I would sit in a comfy chair with a big book in my lap and the time would fly by and I would finish my session enlightened. Anymore I spent my time checking email, and reading little snippets of breaking news and cat videos while on my right the tv blasted CNN all morning and afternoon. I had lost my way. I would get back to the fat chair and the fat book, maybe peeking at the computer and the tv from time to time, but just a little.
And then the guys were done. Everything looked fine. But now I had to put the whole shebang together again. There were maybe two or three setbacks but I got it done. I was reconnected to the world, I had access to everything that was going on. Well I might as well check what I had missed and then I would go right back, right back to the Lazy Boy and the fat tome.
The book sat on the chair for a few days, then I tucked it into the bookshelf just temporarily to make room for something, and finally ended up in the bathroom where I get all my reading done these days.
Touching story about your grandfather. I imagine when that first tractor died he just shoved it into some dusty shed or sold it for parts, an annoyance for sure, but nothing like losing a living animal whose butt you followed with a plow for twenty years, but then you fed him, made sure he had a warm place to sleep, maybe looked into those huge eyes and wondered what he thought.
Reminds me of a song. Have you guys heard of Gillian Welch? As a fan of folk, pure folk and none of that damned old rock and roll, I expect Beagles might like her act. And without further ado:
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