Let me tell you about me... in These titles mean nothing.

… in 15 minutes. That’s how much time I have. Not a lot. It turns out I can spend an hour or maybe even hours writing here. I can let my thoughts and my finger strokes expand to fill the time. I can even go back and edit if I have enough time.

Well this time I don’t have enough time. So it’s going to be quick and dirty. It is going to be whatever comes out of my head and onto the screen. It will be something though. I’m quite sure of that much.

It’s Thursday morning. The last Thursday, the second to last day, in July. The year has swung on its pivot. We are closing the loop and racing to the end. I’m ok with that. True, time goes too quickly but I guess what would you have it do? Linger? Savor? Let each sunset have its significance? Well sure. That’s how it should be but we both know that’s not the way it is. We gallop through life, as if we are in New Mexico, as if we are still sixteen and the Corvette has room for three - only in special occasions.

I am wearing my black Wranglers - the ones from the Chanhassen Good Will. They have been a good clothing purchase. Almost new and sturdy and close enough to fitting to be worn. I have on top the t-shirt John brought me back from his trip to Boston. It’s a soft green - for the Monster Wall - at Fenway park. It’s oversize and feels good. And it’s a nice color. I’m still barefoot but my shoes are under the table so I won’t have to look for them.

I have Mr. Coffee gurgling away. I haven’t been making coffee much. I’m back on Diet Pepsi so I don’t need the fluids or the caffeine as much. I’m just buying ONE twenty ounce vending machine pop a day. I get it at noon and I look forward to it. It’s losing its punch though. It’s not as sharp or as luxurious as it was the first month or so. I might just transfer back to coffee. There is a pot at work and I have my First Nations cup, ever esteemed, so I can always go back.

I had lunch with Ann yesterday. I had gone to the lunch room for my aforesaid Pepsi and a package of peanut - lunch of the goddess - and she eats lunch there. She is an old friend - we go back many decades. She came to town to be an agronomist at the Co-op. She sold stuff to my husband. She married a local boy and they milked Jerseys. Time has changed all our lives and now we are both at the same little factory, making wire harnesses. She is in circuit prep and I’m in assembly so we don’t do the same kind of work and we don’t see each other during our work hours.

Ann is a Democrat. Ann is an Idealist. Ann asked me if I thought Bernie Sanders was still a flash in the pan. So I sat with her and ate my peanuts and drank my pop. We pretty much talked politics and work a little.

We have a pleasant lunch room. I rarely go there. At lunch and on breaks I tend to find a quiet corner and sit and read the book of the day. I”m on page 100 of 700 of An American Tragedy. Looks like every one will be hearing about that one for some time.

Talking time, it’s been fifteen minutes or longer. It’s time for me to scramble for my shoes and my lunch and finish whatever preparation I make for the day.

Have a good one, friends. Be good to one another. Find joy.