I still spend a lot of time with those suffering addictions. My original training for my masters was that of counseling. I didn’t do it for long as a job. It’s a hard career, because you constantly deal with people who are to one degree or another suffering and having difficulty in succeeding at something in life. If you aren’t careful, you can get vicariously frustrated, burnt out, and depressed as a counselor.
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My father was not good at showing his feelings…unless he was mad. I didn’t have a close relationship with him after I was past that “little kid” stage. I just don’t think he knew how to interact with kids over eight years old. He used to stop by my elementary school playground yard when his postal mail route took him there during my recess. He’d stand at the chainlink fence and watch us playing dodgeball until I noticed him and ran over to him. It was a happy occurrence and one of the last memories I have of much interaction with him. I have the problem of a number of noxious weeds growing in my meadow. I especially hate the thistle, even with its gorgeous red blooms. One of the weeds the county will cite you for having is called toadflax. Sounds like an appropriate name for something horrible…the problem is that the plant is gorgeous and I wish my field were covered with it. Locals call it Butter and Eggs plant, which I think fits a lot better. Apparently, it’s bad for livestock to eat. Of course there are no livestock on my property or anyone else’s that can eat it, but that’s a typical government nonsense detail. (By the way, the biggest reservoir of these noxious weeds is on government lands and is never dealt with at all.) I’ve always wanted to see what’s just over the hill or around the bend. I remember it got to be more of an issue when I was about twelve years old. I dreamed of traveling gypsy-like with friends across the country. I dreamed of being a long haul trucker—always seeing what was further on down the road. The methods of seeing “what’s out there” always varied, and road trips with my folks made me think it was possible to see it all someday. This is rodeo season and I've been in love with rodeos since I was a kid. I was the kid that ran around with a cap gun chasing bad guys in the back yard, too. Rodeo is a bit different though. What amazes me about the folks who compete in rodeo events in the arena is the dogged determination it takes. There is nothing about riding a Bronc that is easy, and the risk of broken bones is almost a guarantee. The reward monetarily is minimal unless you are awfully good and awfully lucky. It's sort of like writing novels in that regard. Maybe that's why I like it, it's something you do because you have to do it. That is the reward in and of itself. |
Greg
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