Books and Covers and Topsoil and Flat Tires

Fifteen bags of topsoil, 9 cubic feet, each just fit into Monte Carlo’s trunk.  They filled the trunk and I had to make sure they were stacked just so to get the trunk to close completely.  I was on my last trip.  I had done the math earlier in the week and deduced I needed 75 bags of topsoil.

Photo by Christer Ehrling on Unsplash

One trip at a time.  I went to the Lowe’s with an empty trunk, went to Lawn & Garden, stood in line, bought 15 bags, went back to my car, drove to the loading zone, and watched two, weary guys load my trunk.  I didn’t tip them.  In retrospect, I probably should have.

I would then drive home, back the car up to the garden fence, and unload the 15 bags, my bag aching more with each bag.  Each bag weighs 40 lbs.

I was on my last trip.  I stopped at Sonic to celebrate with an ice cream sundae.  I used most of the little bit of cash I had to tip the waitress on roller skates.

I pulled out onto Route 60 which instantly narrowed to two lanes as it approached my town of Ona.  There was nothing on the sides of the road but forest and ravines.  No place to pull over.

I heard and felt the familiar flop flop flop of a tire gone flat. 

I groaned.  And nearly cried.

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Quilted

Tennyson wrote, “I am a part of all that I have met.”

Brooke Hampton said, “I am pieces of all the places I have been, and the people I have loved. I’ve been stitched together by song lyrics, book quotes, adventure, late night conversations, moonlight, and the smell of coffee.”

I love these truths because they explain my contradictions.  I’ve had a myriad of experiences in nearly as many places.  I have been blessed to meet a great many people. 

“Mother Earth” by Galla Grotto

And while doing so, I was often wearing jeans – the uniform of my generation.

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I’ve Always Wanted to…Skydive

I always wanted to skydive. 

Really.

I had plans to do so with a friend, but dammit all, she had the temerity to get herself killed in a motorcycle accident before we could execute the plan. 

Photo by Mario Gogh on Unsplash

She was quite an inspiration in my life and I was just never able to bring myself to do the skydiving thing without her.  And then in my late 30s, my chiropractor asked me, “Do you ski?” I said No.  And he said, “Good.  Don’t take it up.”  And then I said, “I suppose that means skydiving is out too.” 

The look on his face.  Apparently, he was terrified of flying.  You would have thought I’d suggested he remove a testicle or something.  “Oh, God, no.  No.  No skydiving.”

And so, it’s a want that will forever be unfulfilled and I find myself mourning the loss.  How many other I always wanted tos am I not going to be able to do?

Getting old sucks.

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The Secret West Virginia Writers Spring Conference

The West Virginia Writers annual conference, always in June, always at Cedar Lakes Conference Center in Ripley, WV is one of the writing world’s best-kept secrets. Where else can you see a lineup like this (including me!) for $125 for members and $150 for nonmembers. Lodging, on-site, is reasonable as is the cafeteria food plan. You can give yourself a stellar writing retreat for not much moola! Info here.

West Virginia Writers, like the people of West Virginia, are very welcoming. You needn’t worry about coming alone, you will leave with friends. Find your writing tribe in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia.