Nurse, lay counselor, data entry, youth pastor, homeschool teacher, life coach, editor, ghostwriter, author, self-publishing coach, workshop teacher, general know-it-all
43, wife, mother, daughter, story reviewer, writer, poet, translator.
32 but feel older. Not sure I’ve ever had a career. Work I’ve done includes ranching, restoring and maintaining yachts, playing in club bands, backcountry ranger for the US Forest Service, freelance writing and editing, creative writing teacher and workshop leader, lead field technician for scientific studies of rivers and lakes, and designing and building rafts and specialised gear for field science projects (as a consultant).
I’ve tried to do things I enjoyed and to work outdoors as much as possible.
Honestly? You probably don’t want a career. Just remember what else ‘career’ means.
Another teacher? Woo Hoo!
I have power again. We’ve been without power for three days.
Yay! And appreciation for those who work to restore power.
Three days is pretty bad. I hope you have gas or propane for heat and cooking, and no pipes froze. You worry about food going off in the refrigerator.
We’re pretty remote and when there’s an outage, we’re low on the list. So I’ve put together a system with batteries and inverters so we can have phone service, internet, e-mail, charge batteries, etc.
We have a big solar PV system but it’s grid tied. I’ve thought about going off-grid. Waiting for better batteries.
That’s us too, we live at the end of a dirt road with few neighbors so we’re the last to get fixed.
But we heat with wood and cook with propane so it wasn’t as bad as it cold have been.
Yes, those guys work their tails off when the power is down. They have to be out all day when the temps are as cold as they are right now, they sure earn their pay checks in this weather.
Quite a few of our neighbours are refugees from the suburbs, who lack practical experience with severe weather and hazards of rural living. They are also afflicted with the belief that when they get into a scrape, someone ought to show up and save them.
Frequently, I have to help get vehicles unstuck from snowbanks or clear an access road for someone who didn’t realise that they can’t drive through knee-deep snow. I also get called to thaw pipes or figure out why a garage door opener quit working, or find a lost dog, that dashed off after a herd of deer.
Mostly I don’t mind, as long as they don’t treat me as an on-call service, sans payment.
I do have a long memory. The brother-in-law of a neighbour got his rental BMW stuck in the snow trying to make it to the Denver airport to catch a flight. I spent a couple hours in a shrieking blizzard with a shovel and a snowblower, while he sat in his car with the engine running, heater on, cursing a blue streak and spinning the tyres after I asked him not to do that. I finally asked his sis to coax him into the house so I could get the car out of the ditch.
Which I did. When it was on the highway, he leapt in with a muttered thanks and roared off.
If I ever see him stuck again, I’ll pretend not to be at home.
What a jerk, I wouldn’t help him again either. Luckily all of my neighbors have lived around here for as long as I have. We help each other when the weather gets bad.
Righty-o! While I eschew politics on WP, it didn’t escape my notice that he’s a former Wyoming Senate chair, a Republican, who now lobbies for the mining industry.
We’re suffering from rural gentrification. Lots of well-to-do retirees, who install fencing, motion activated lights and video cameras, and NO TRESSPASSING signs. Two former governors have bought houses just upriver. And the two-lane highway, which was a potholed mess from logging trucks, got repaved last summer.
A coincidence, no doubt.
I can’t stand most people that have lived anywhere near the city. These jerk will move out of the city right next to a farmer then try to get the township to stop said farmer from spreading manure on his field because it smell bad. I mean really how long have you lived here and you’re telling someone who has been here for generations to stop running his farm the way he wants.
Oh yeah, definitely a coincidence, NOT!
Ha. You get dicks like that in cities too - people who move into a lively area, then complain about the noise from the clubs that have been there for years and have made the area desirable.
As far as living in a city, I plead guilty. In New Zealand, Mum and I lived on Lyttelton Harbour, a rural backwater just over the Port Hills from Christchurch. Our house was on the harbour cliffs and I had to walk about 2 k just to catch a bus.
Then we moved to Auckland (which is like a smaller, cleaner San Francisco) and I loved it. We didn’t have a car, so I got around by bus and skateboard and bike and on foot, which really helped me to learn the city. We rented a loft flat in a 1907 Victorian house, with hardwood floors and a baby grand piano, just above the main hospital, where there was a transit hub.
Two blocks east was a wonderful big park, the Auckland Domain, with a huge museum, winter gardens, sports pitches, and weekly concerts in summer. I took sailing lessons at a yacht club and started working on boats, first for fun and then for pay. I hung out on the Tamaki Road beachfront and caught rides with mates over to Muriwai and Piha for surfing.
The only sour note was the posh girls’ school I attended for a couple years— torture.
Well I’d rather live in a small town but that don’t pay the bills.
I lived in a tiny village of about 100 people with no shops and a tiny country church for years. It was a one-mile walk uphill to the nearest shop. Granted I was at boarding school every term, but it was incredibly beautiful and incredibly limiting at the same time during the holidays. I moved straight from that to Spain for ten months to a town of 40k. Wonderful memories. Then I came back and lived in Dublin city for the three years of nursing training. While I love the Texas heat, I really miss the Irish woods, rivers, and hills, and the ongoing banter they don’t know how to have here. I also miss the convenience of a good transit service.
Great fun chatting with Irish people. They can range from silly to serious in an instant, and there’s a music to the speech that makes it a physical pleasure to take part.