TWTWTW 2006.41 Tapping our toes

Lala kept asking the same question in German. Why? Why am I dying? Why can't I die? Why is my body failing me? Why can't you understand me? Why can't I understand myself? Why don't you talk to me? Why do you leave me? Why do I have to leave? Why is death like this?

The farmer in the ICU, got a break from his respirator, to ask about his cattle, if they are finished having calves, if they are being provided for with dry bedding, as he tappped his toes to the polka music.

The teacher celebrated five years cancer free, while other teachers gathered to wish colleagues happy trails into retirement.

2006 Week 41 was the week summer died abruptly, the week nature did a number on us. The forecast for snow had sent most of scrambling last weekend already to batten down the hatches. When it started snowing and blowing by Thursday morning, when people started driving like they were in bumper cars, when we saw the snow plows reappear, we knew summer was over.

It was a week of wind, only the basswood have leaves left and October is not half over. Four hours into Friday the 13th, a tree fell on a power line and a fourth of 56572 went dark. Repair crews tried in vain to save the school day as students waited in school buses behind the school praying for them to fail. Capitulation, finally, and the three day weekend started.

These are modern times so on a Friday in October when the Forum published an op-ed page cartoon of a school bus parked in front of a school, the driver holding a weapon out the window telling the kids to hurry and get inside the school - she has them covered - some people conclude hmmmm no school - no storm - bomb threat - lockdown in Frazee - lockout in 56572. Not.

The line of those waiting for roast beef at St. Leonard's midweek was shorter than other years. There was no raffle. The food was as tasty as ever. Go figure.

Our son's classmate served drinks at The Club, home while her boyfriend serves in Baghdad, told us he will be home on leave next weekend, what she had planned for him. When asked what the news from Baghdad is, her smile vanished, she shook her head and said two words "not good." She went into more detail, which we will not go into.

Josh's folks left to go hunting in Montana.

Lala left us early this morning, letting go of the string as soon as the wind died.

Turn up the music please.
Message to toes:
Move.