The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

collections of big little things

JEEP parts

basic heels 

hotel soaps etc.

amazingly detailed notes (aka trash)
Above snap shots are last four images on my phone today ... they are all the same thing, a little stack of something.

Jeep parts sent as a text message as the Jeep was being towed from the driveway ...  is this the whole thing, or are there other parts around here to send with?  We've been working on the Jeep for three weeks now ... bottom line, it won't start ... maybe a poor connection to the solenoid ... time has become more important then $ on that project.  We box it up and send it to someone who knows better (hope so!).

Two, who almost never wears heels borrowed these for an interview ... she played dress up, when was it? yesterday I think ... now she interviews ... all of her shoes are college kid shoes, she teeters on the edge of grown up.  My shoes returned without a scuff accompanied by the sweetest little thanks Mom note.

A grown up "kid" who is becoming one of "my kids" travels extensively for work and he gave me a ton of high end hotel soaps, shampoos, lotions ... shaving cream, toothpaste, all that kind of stuff as a white elephant type gift, a sweet joke, and I actually really enjoy the stuff.  It's all dumped in a big storage tub which I keep under the bathroom sink, sometimes I get it out, open the product and if it smells just right for now I use it right then.  It's fun to "sniff" through it.  That pic was snapped and sent along with a thank you text (and I really hope he is inclined to batch that little joke up again ... he seems to be staying at nicer places then we tend to!)

I needed a 1' binder for notes for what I am most thinking about lately.  I am thinking less about ... uh ... prop governors ... and the specifics of why high wing airplanes tend to pitch up when flaps are added.  On Friday someone called to see if I wanted to "fill in" for him as a parachutist drop pilot ... he was detained in Chicago and couldn't get to his weekend gig.  I like to help a friend out when I can ... people "falling", even the controlled fall, out of airplanes is the single most nightmarish thought of my "pilot" think.  I don't know why.  I mean, drop zones are advertised ... I know that.  I laugh at myself, but I seem to have a minor phobia involving a parachute guy splatting on my plane.  Even seeing it in print causes me to shake my head, no way, even if every one was trying it would be a remarkable feat ... still ... falling people ... creepy.  That gig pays 15 bucks a load ... climb up to 10 thousand agl and call door open.  That's all there is to it I ask ... (turns out that is not all there is to it).  Husband hated the idea (seriously?!? he asked, for 15 bucks and what about insurance ... etc), and because I had already made advance plans to spend the day with him, I had to decline the opportunity to fly the jump plane.  I guess that little stack of seemingly useless notes still kinda pings at me.  I sat outside the grocery store talking with a guy half way across the country and was able to ask intelligent questions about how it's really supposed to go, and I thought I could easily do it just from that conversation ... that's the cool part ... the crazy part is that all the training required to earn a commercial certificate nets one a 15 bucks a load weekend job ... that really stinks.  I have bunches and bunches of containers full of aviation ... my head and my heart hold it close.  It's gotta be worth more the 15 bucks a load ... .

Little containers that we toss things into ... yeah, I've been inadvertently snap shoting them all week ... sweet little tiny things that are big enough.

Yesterday one of the kids was talking to me about an assignment that's, in short, about how do we explain something when the references are missing or lost.  Like ... how do you talk about automobiles to a future driverless society.  I started thinking about how our roads are built on old Indian trails ... or how the Greeks navigated by the stars and the Romans set out distance markers ... go so far on this path till you see the sign  and make a right ... what we know, or think we know is built on something, even forgotten or never known somethings. Because I fly, I know something about navigation ... I know lots of different ways to get from here to there ... and I understand some of the stuff to be mindful of along the way. That's the last picture ... a little stack of loose papers which may represent a thing which has become significant to me ... a tiny thing which is actually a big thing in that it helps me see the significance of guidelines ... or um, Parables ...  laid out by God With Us (there really should be music with those miraculous words!).  A good update for my rickety 'ol nav system.

PS ... (came in today's mail) ...

"A miracle is a visual parable." 
~ anon.  

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