September 25, 2020
It’s 2:12 am and another night of sleeplessness. So many things on my mind.. So it wakes me up. That and a caffeinated water @ 8pm. Hey, it happens.
So I am tossing and turning and just decide to get up for awhile. I walk into the kitchen and peer out the window across the backyard and I see another house with lights on. Every light on. I don’t know them but hope that all is well, when I notice a person stumbling up the stairs who appears to be looking for the door. I look away and when I look back the shadowy figure has made it safely inside. I decide to munch on cookie that literally called me from my bed to the kitchen. Yes.. it happens. Hurray for Fall and Pumpkin cookies 🙂 As I savor the deliciousness of the vanilla icing on top of the moist almost cake like cookie, I realize I am no longer alone.. The dogs are up with me and wondering if I might drop a morsel. Not a chance.
I finish my cookie and go back into the bedroom and try for sleep again. I lay in the darkness and it’s a lovely night so the air conditioner is off. It’s little too warm for the comforter so I lay there listening to the sounds of the night. The hum of the fan as it gently rotates and emits a gentle breeze across the tiny room. The deep breathing of my sleeping guy and the comforting sound when my dog takes her position on the floor next to my side of the bed, a soft thump when she finds her spot, nestles her head under the bed with her back against the wall and in her strange yoga pose of sleep. The trains in the distance, that have always been a comforting sound, the whistle in the night as if to say the world is continuing while you sleep. I try to close my eyes but sleep doesn’t come.
So I get up quietly and shut the door to our bedroom and pad across the room and down the short hall to grab my computer. Time to write.
I want to sit at the table but it is covered with stuff and then remember, I have a secret section of the table that is always waiting for me. I should tell you about this table. It’s another of my projects. I found it in the garage and turns out it belonged to my guy. It was sitting there unloved just waiting for me to rescue it. So I did. It’s an older oak table, so it had me from hello. It’s unique and the leaves are attached and slide out to make the table longer or slide in to hide within the table until they are needed. That is the secret space of which I speak. I try to keep the leaves inside so that on a morning at 212 am I have a space to sit and write. I have a beautiful desk in the office room but that is for work not creative writing. Someone once told me that you must find your space for creativity, you cannot just create one and assign it. I have found that (as much as I hate to admit it) to be true. The hidden leaves are my creative space at least in the house. It has beautiful wood and is stained a color that is a lovely unbleached grey that lets the beauty of the grain show through. It is still not completely done it has one leg that needs attention, but it’s a great table.
So I sit down and begin to type away, just getting all the thoughts out there. I had a work meeting last evening and during that meeting I witnessed a man receive a lifetime achievement award from his colleagues. And as I listened to the accolades and then watched the recipient get up and speak and express his gratitude for the honor, my tears flowed. He is an honest hardworking man, he is an inventor, he changed the face of farming with something called a cornhead. He invented the idea, designed the product and nearly went broke helping it come to fruition. His thank you speech was engaging, light hearted and emotional all rolled into one. He brought along his older brother and his daughter to witness this great moment, he shared that this was his 3rd time being nominated and how those before him were tough competition, he mentioned winners with famous names and those who worked for NASA, these were his competition and why this honor meant so much to him. He talked about his struggles to get this product off the ground and through it all he was Midwestern , earnest and grateful. And the lifetime achievement award he received might be unknown in some arenas was the Pulitzer of his amazing career and well deserved. It was a culmination of a lifetime of work and dedication to the art of farming. And he has never forgotten or left the humble beginnings at a community college or a small Midwestern community. He remains dedicated to his college, community and the farmers of today and tomorrow. He left us with three ideas taken from a favorite movie of his that define Midwestern earnestness and closely matches his own story and drive.
Listen to the voices
Go the distance
If you build it they will come.
His story is the embodiment of those beliefs and I am glad I was there to witness the well deserved recognition of his career.
Now it’s 305 am and both dogs have returned to their very noisy slumber, so it’s time for me to try again.
Until Next Time,