At some point during the night it got into my head that my drive back from Big Rapids would be infinitely better if I streamed a Pandora station featuring Michael Buble. Now that I've admitted to being soothed by the sweet crooning of those handsome lips you can go ahead and unfollow me on Twitter here: SlowSoul.
Now that is off my chest let us discuss the lightning strike that sent sparks into the sky (quite a distance) ahead of me as I was driving tonight. Throughout the hour long drive there was multiple lightning strikes. That looked like short lived FLAMES floating midair. But this one struck a tree? Then when I passed Exit 120 flames in the woods caught my eye. People, there was a chance I witnessed lightning causing a forest fire. Go back in the archives two years and you'll see there is a recurring theme starting After I called the emergency dispatch and reported the possibility of a fire resulting from a lightning strike at a specific location I had to change to the Pandora station featuring Eddie Vedder. (Have you heard Ukulele Songs? YOU SHOULD!) Eddie Vedder is so much more appropriate for forest fires. With the station changed my mind wandered to forest fires and shooting stars and men with beards. When I think of forest fires and men I think of Edward Abbey and Jack Kerouac in their respective fire towers. Then I become insanely jealous. And grateful. Then I start to miss Jeff. And Sheri. But mostly Jeff because it was his porch I spent my free evenings on when the fire cut off access to town. It was Jeff's fridge I kept my beer in. It was Jeff garage I shot pool in. All things a hermit living far from town would spend their nights doing.
It was Jeff who lead me to the job that had me living 60 miles from town in a one room cabin with access to town cut off when I painted this:
Jeff rescued this painting from an tragic fate when I absentmindedly (surprise!) left it on the top of the car, where it was drying. The painting made it about a mile down the road before it blew off to be found by one of Jeff's crew mates, then it showed up at their morning safety meetings, and Jeff's brave soul claimed it and returned it to me to be completed.
Jeff is also the standard to which I hold men I date, who I might date, who I might possibly be willing to consider living with. (Disclaimer: To the best of my knowledge I have never been romantically involved with Jeff, or with anybody named Jeff.) Jeff keeps a clean house, dresses snazzy, cooks really well, and smells good. My standards are pretty high. So someday when I'm an old spinster living on the woods you will know how it started.
P.S. August and September of 2009 I checked this sight a lot. Because I am a nerd. At the time I was living at Toketee, and there was a blaze to the west, along the North Umpqua Highway, and two to the south, the Boze & the Rainbow. I was also really nervous that if I had to evacuate Jenna would be out somewhere I couldn't find her and I would have to leave without her. That did not happen. But we did have to make the 2 hour trip to Medford to see a vet about having a bot-fly larva removed. (Do not open the last link if you have a weak stomach. Dude has a hairy back.)