Images from Richfield

Sometimes, the pictures aren't worth a full post. That doesn't mean the stories aren't worth going in a collection.


A few months ago, an amazingly cool sky:

At the grocery store. Who...? What...?

Of course! That's who it is! He was giving out candies to the "naughty ones." He took one look at me, and gave me two.

The company Christmas party I mentioned over at Pobble Thoughts. We found our seats, but the decoration had its back to us. I decided I should turn it around. Eeeep!

Scary, cyclops gingerbread doll. I wanted to steal it, but didn't.

 The MC of the event had visited the open bar more than once when he first got up. He made more stops there as the night went on. One of the announcements went like this:

There's a bar here tonight. That means liquor. Remember, whatever you do, however you behave, you will have to live with it for the rest of your life! Yes, sir!

They were giving away gym bags. That announcement, that came close to the end of the night, went like this:

Those bags in the back room? Those are for employees. People who work for (the company). If you take more than one, you are taking something out of the hands of your colleagues. One each. If you've taken more than one, well, it takes a real man to bring 'em back. O-kaaaaaay... Now that I think of it, that was the last time he got the mic.

More of the company party...

Not scary gingerbread decoration

Lithus and one of the managers

Unrelated to the company party, I looked out the window the other day, and discovered an igloo. Check out the window in the picture. That will give you a sense of how big this thing is.

Again, nothing worth a full post, but fun stories anyway.



Note ~ Another childhood memory: When I was first taught this song (at the same preschool, from the Pobble Thoughts post), my teacher explained it was "'reindeer paws', so it means you can hear the sound of the reindeers' feet - their paws - on the rooftop." Forty years later and I have just now come to realize it's pause, as opposed to paws. Yay for karaoke lyrics!

Christmas Lights in Richfield

It's official ~ I need a better camera. Until that happens, though, here are the best pictures of the Richfield lawn decorations I could manage. Richfield loves Christmas, and that makes me very happy.

Press play, and take a look...

This is a pretty little house and it's even nicer decorated

"Seasons Greetings" Points to the town for recognizing other holidays get celebrated this time of year, too!

I like the old movie theatre

Wintery Winter

When we woke up this morning, it was -11 here in Richfield. It was also 73 back home in New Orleans. You know, that place where we were just last weekend? That's an 84 degree difference. As I write this, it's warmed up both places ~ to 75 in NOLA and -3 in Richfield. At least I get to stay home and write. Lithus gets to fly in this. But feel really sorry for his ground crew, who are working underneath the helicopter's rotorwash ~ and the wind chill that comes with it...

Sometimes, Shit Happens

There are certain risks inherent in the life Lithus and I live. More for him, in his helicopter every day, than for me, but some that I share with him. Being on the road, or in the sky, as often as we are, sometimes, shit happens.

The flight from NOLA to Salt Lake this past weekend was...bumpy. My seat belt caught me on the upswing more than once. There were a couple diagonal drops. I wasn't scared ~ but I probably should have been, at least somewhat, in retrospect. 

Our pilots were seasoned professionals. All's well that ends well. Beverage service was even resumed. But it was a reminder: sometimes, shit happens.

Often, after someone has died in an accident, the response is "at least they died doing what they loved." I have never understood this and have always called bullshit. I promise you ~ the person didn't want to die in the climbing/skiing/sky diving/riding accident. They wanted to go right on living in order to do more of that thing they love. And I still believe that.

I also have a slightly different perspective after however many years on the road. Should shit happen ~ should I go down in a helicopter, or a plane, or off a logging road somewhere ~ will I have wanted to die? Oh hell no. But...But I love what I do. I love all the time spent traveling. Heading from one place to the next. Driving the roads that make you laugh and ask "Is this really a road, or are we breaking trail here?" Being on the small airplanes where they ask you your weight before loading, so they know they can take off. Long travel days that include two flights, a sketchy cab, and a long drive thrill me. And oh, being in Lithus' helicopter. I swear to you now, there is nothing ~ nothing ~ better than that.

At one point during the flight last weekend, after a particularly dramatic diagonal drop, I reached over and put my hand in Lithus' hand. Again, I wasn't scared. But I had realized, even if this went badly, I was where I wanted to be, with the person I wanted to be with. Right place, right person. It was a beautiful certainty in a moment of uncertainty.

And so, dear friends, should shit happen, rest easy. Know I died happy, doing what I love, with the man I love. 

(But I'm still planning on dying at 86 when I'm shot by a jealous wife, so don't worry too much about it...)