The last few months have not generated as many posts as say, the same time last year. August, as initial frustration over nil help with the move to the AeroKnow Museum at the airport seemed to blossom into hope (as well founded as the heart-felt assurance that tomorrow, pigs WILL fly) I began to smile again. Sure I’m working almost not at all at The Granite Guy and I’m not pursuing full-time employment — understanding full-well that a looser is NOT the person who doesn’t find work; a looser is the person who doesn’t TRY — all so I can finish the big move and reconfigure my house so there’s more open space for me. . . . so there really isn’t much to reveal to the world worth revealing. I’ve deliberately held off updating my story after sharing the circumstance of my brother Bill who has serious liver trouble. It was important that the first post newcomers and regular visitors saw what the news about the August 29 fundraiser. Now it’s time to resume posting about more than that.
The fundraiser was a big success. Marjorie, one of Bill’s children shared the news late Sunday with her Facebook friends. I consider myself lucky to be one of her “newest” Facebook friends, even though I’m not very new. Monday came the word that Bill did not feel well enough to get out of bed to go to a scheduled doctor’s appointment, and an ambulance was called to take him to the hospital. Because I know some of Bill’s friends who are not into Facebook have begun to read my blog, I will usually post new of Bill first so they can catch up and move on. I have heard nothing from Bill’s family via Face’ or e-mail since Monday.
Last night I showed the still-vacant upstairs duplex to a fine couple, one of whom engaged me to recite my poetry and Vachel Lindsay’s poetry at Iles Elementary School a few years ago. It’s a magnet school for gifted kids, and it was terrific to be there. She isn’t writing much poetry these days, but she and her significant other seemed as impressed with the place, and I was impressed with them. He drives a pickup truck and so I ask you: what’s NOT to like about these people? I gave them an application to complete and return. If they do, and things check out okay, I am confident that crippling vacancy will be filled to my significant delight.
The more time I spend at the AeroKnow Museum, the more time I want to spend there. To save you, the valued “Honey & Quinine” reader the burden of slogging through my posts about it, I’ve launched a new blog named after the support organization which was created to encourage involvement in the success of the museum. The blog is called “Abe Lincoln’s Air Force” and can be read at http://aeroknow.wordpress.com
There is a Springfield Chapter Illinois Pilots Association meeting starting at 6:30, Wednesday, September 1 at Jim Thornton’s hangar on Charlie Ramp at Abraham Lincoln Capital Airport. You don’t have to be a pilot or even a member of IPA to attend the potluck event. Just drive to the main gate, honk your horn a few times, and someone will come let you in. If they don’t recognize you, simply say you’re a prospective IPA member, and follow them back to the open hangar with Thornton’s Cessna 182 out front and all the cars parked nearby.
Thursday night, LincolnLand Community College and University of Illinois Springfield are hosting visual arts gallery receptions for my new friend Adam Persbacher at LLCC and an equally worthy person at UIS. E me if you want to know more.
Today I’m continuing to take back my house. Earlier this morning I cut all the card stock I had been stockpiling for years in the back room (recently reclaimed and transformed into my bedroom) to fit as stiffeners on a bunch of 9 x 12 mailing envelopes (ex Springfield Air Rendezvous air show to be over-labeled with my return address) and inserting each into an envelope ready for mailing Abe Lincoln’s Air Force member certificate and cards. As you can tell, I’m having a bunch of fun.
I need to call George at The Granite Guy to see how he’s doing, and if he wants me to work this week. Keep your fingers crossed. I can use the bread.
Live long . . . . . . and proper.