Author: Steve

Big and shiny.

It might be an ox beetle.

You think you know what’s going on and suddenly out of left field comes the phone call that Judy’s nephew Ralph in California just died.  He’s the guy in the middle of everything making sure everybody is getting what they need.  He joined the fire department in Anaheim as the youngest guy they ever hired.  He said for years he would be the youngest person ever promoted to captain there, and he was.  He had just retired.  He and wife Jill had sold their house and moved in with Judy’s sister (his mom) Susie to help.  A good guy doing right by everybody.

He just turned 56 years old.  Working on the house at the river in Parker, AZ, he was set to return to Long Beach this afternoon, but no-showed.  They called a neighbor there in Parker to check on him.  He had just dropped while doing the breakfast dishes.

Sometimes we see it coming.  Sometimes we don’t.  Nobody even thought to look for this one.

A light plane flies overhead; flying low on approach to the airport.  I don’t look up; I see it by the shadow that passes close to me.  My mind gets to going.  Were the situation reversed, and I at the controls of that light plane, might I have shifted my path slightly left or right to make sure my shadow passed exactly over that person on the ground?

And would I be keeping score?

…about Judy’s ectopic pregnancy; the fertilized egg that attached in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus all those years ago.  It happened between Becky and Matt.  Of course, it wasn’t an issue then, but I’m now glad it happened at a time and place that the decision about how to deal with such a critical reproductive issue could be made by Judy in consultation with health professionals, and not as prescribed by politicians.

Got home yesterday.

That circuitous route on the second day driving…

…resulted in from this…

…to this.

It took a few years, but now we have been in every county in Texas.  254 altogether.

It’s good to be home.