The Storyteller Way

another one for “Wizardnuts”, don’t know what to call it.

As we bounced and crunched and slid along the freshly graveled road that led to the set we were dressing I Noticed the bush-hog mowing down the thick brush that had grown up around the buildings.  Now, when I say Noticed, I don’t mean merely seeing the thing and recognizing it as a bush-hog.  Something about it set off my subtle spidey-sense, something about it Echoed through the Force, or something to that effect anyway.  Something about rocks.
I wasn’t really paying attention though, as so often happens, more engrossed in the task at hand, and which truck had which set pieces and so forth.
I pulled the truck off the road toward the end of the buildings, ahead of the others, and the bush-hog trundled our way to mow just on the other side of the road.  I really didn’t like it being that close.  Part of that is common sense, of course, but this had a Particular warning buzz to it.
It was making me nervous.
But I still wasn’t really paying attention as I hopped out of the truck and wandered back to the others.  One of them needed help unloading a large table, and I discovered I had left my gloves in my truck.
I didn’t want to walk over there, the bush-hog was just across the road and there were piles of fresh gravel along the roadside.  The thing about Bush-hog, and Rocks kept nagging in my mind enough that I thought about it for a moment before I finally made up my mind just to go get my gloves and be quick about it.
I kept an eye on the Bush-hog as I quickly made my way, half expecting at any second to get pelted with some small stone or another, and it’s lucky that I was looking, for it was no small bit of rock that caused the horrible Bang and made the the Bush-hog leap a foot off the ground in an explosion of debris.
You know how they say time slows down?  Perhaps our perception speeds up.  Whichever the case, I saw as if in slow motion half of a solid concrete block come flying out from under the thing.
I had time to think “Oh, this is what that “Rock” business was about…” as I saw the blades spinning while the mower deck was tilted up, spitting out a shower of slagged concrete.
One of those chunks was the size of a baseball, and jagged.  It sort of glowed like a black streak in my vision as it left the underside of the mower and sped toward my face.
I was still in the midst of my reactive flinch from the noise of it, and I willed myself to turn just a little further, fighting physics to move.
It whipped my hair as it passed between my hat and my shoulder, missing by perhaps two inches.
I had turned away enough that I saw it plough a furrow through the grass about twenty feet behind me, pop up again, and go sailing across the next road.
All of that took less than a second.
It wasn’t one of those moments of narrowly avoided death that leave you strangely invigorated and doing a little dance that you’re alive.
This was one of those sobering ones, where you feel the need to sit down for a minute, call your loved ones just to tell them that you love them, and spend a couple of hours reflecting on life.
The point of this story, was that I Knew.  I saw it coming.  Exactly what? No. But it involved that Mower and Rock and Bad.  I knew it the second I saw the Bush-hog.
But I wasn’t paying close enough attention.
I didn’t listen to what I Knew.
And it damned near cost me my Life.

Whether it’s our own intuition, guardian angel, God, Gods, or the universe at large, there’s something that whispers in our minds, warning us of danger, guiding our steps in the right direction, if only we can learn to listen to it.
This story was one of the loud and dramatic examples, where it was veritably waving flags and hollering through a bullhorn.  I Know how to listen. And still I didn’t really.
I firmly believe that if I hadn’t at least been paying attention enough to be aware of the potential threat so I wasn’t taken by surprise,  I wouldn’t have managed to dodge it and I’d be dead or maimed. But if I’d Really been paying attention, I wouldn’t have been standing there to begin with, I would have dodged it before it even came to pass.
It doesn’t just crop up in times of extreme danger- it’s there all the time.
Most of the time, with this sense, it’s subtle, and if your mind is clouded or too loud with other thoughts you’ll hardly notice it was even there.  But part of you knows.
I mean, how many times have you said to yourself “I knew I should’ve…” ?  Really think about that.
Well, you Did know.
Why didn’t you listen?
This sense, this instinct, intuition, this whisper- if we can learn to listen, and to Trust that small quiet voice, to allow ourselves to Know, our lives can become ever so much easier, quite apart from avoiding an untimely demise, you’ll find you’ll have everything handled before it becomes an issue.
It doesn’t always make sense, and it’s a slippery slope to go chasing down every errant thought in your head- that way lies madness.
Begin by merely paying attention to all those “I knew I should’ve”s.
you’ll start to get a feel for what’s likely and what’s not.  And even with the unlikely ones, merely being aware that the possibility exists can be enough to save your ass in a tight spot, as I illustrated in my story.

so we go to this greek restaurant after the show yesterday, and this seems like a good thing.  we order avgolemeno soup, which is Supposed to be a wonderfully tasty lemony chicken rice soup.

what arrived smelled, I kid you not, Exactly like when someone’s septic tank has backed up in the yard and had so much pepper in it, we were left wondering what they were trying to cover up.  It was offensive just sitting there on the table.  Most of the time, I’m too polite to send things back even when they’ve gotten my order wrong.  This stuff though, this septic soup, was absolutely Foul.

everything else, though tasty enough, was overpriced and meager, after experiencing the Mad Greek in salt lake, and the Greek to Go here in Redmond, both of which win the best Gyro ever awards, and you can stuff yourself silly for about 7 bucks, which rocks.

That soup though, Wow, must be either some special family recipe or there was a disgruntled cook who dumped the dirty dishwater in the pot or some bastard cat came along and hunkered over the stove for his evening constitutional.  Gah!

the rest of the evening went well though- esspresso oat stout and a walk around the block with my brother whilst discussing wizardly things.  It was good.

anyway, just had to share my soup-pain.

you’re welcome

Once more morning has found me relatively well in the home of the wonderful Betsy Tinney and her clan and her massive hoomongus cats ( they’re maine coons.  The last three mornings have been a delightful endeavor of coffee in the hot tub right outside- that’s the right way to start a day let me tell you.  Today though, we have pending engagements, so no hot tub for me.

I’ve been trying to find some chain-danglies for my newest jewelry pieces, but so far no success.  There’s a craft store down the road, but they’re awfully proud of their chain (ie: it’s spendy) but I may be able to find something there that would work.

The pacific northwest is simply stunning- all ringed with snow-capped mountains and inhabited by massive fur trees, giant ferns, and moss everywhere.  It’s like a drier version of a cypress swamp, which I absolutely Love. 

I should have a couple of actual essays coming soon, now that I’ve landed in a safe harbor and have a minute to compose my thoughts- this “On the Road” isn’t very conducive to thought composure, as most of my processing power goes to things like “where the hell am I?” or “what day is this?” or “when did I last eat?” or “do I get an actual bed?” or “How much of this stuff needs to come in the house so we can fall over and be back on the road first thing in the morning? Really? Ok.”… it’s a bit of an adjustment going from my solitary hermitage to this traveling circus, but I wouldn’t trade it.  So long as I get to curl up with my love at the end of the day (whenever that happens to occur) I’m good. 

anyway, we’ve gotta go meet someone for coffee.  Wizards run on coffee you know.