I am overwhelmed by the people trying to help me back home. It is very much appreciated and if I knew a way you could help I would gladly accept it. The best way you can help? Let's have a conversation. I do not have international minutes so it's either Google Meet or Zoom. For the conversations I have had, Google has been working better.
This was not a great week but I know I put in more miles walking than I have any week this year because as the weather has cooled Cujo wants to go and go and go. I am surprisingly calm about the election. I always ask myself, "Would I rather be on my side or theirs?" Let's just say I am nauseously optimistic.
What made the week a bad week is that I have no good news on the matters concerning my residency, passport and employment. Not moving the ball on those issues is distressing.
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Anniversaries are on my mind. Ten years... Ten years... Ten years ago last week my friend Sanjaya lost his Dad in an accident. Ten years ago we put the farm up for auction.
1994 and 2004 were also bad years for reasons not worth going into now.
Not all years that end with a 4 have been bad. In 1984 I turned 16. Growing up on a farm, a driver's license is the ticket to freedom. Being born on September 16 (hours past Iowa's cutoff date for school entry) meant I was one of the older kids in the class of 87.
Had I been born a day earlier and been in the class of 86 I am certain my life would have been different. Why? The 86 class was the... underachiever class. The class of 87 was the opposite. We were competitive on everything. I definitely fit in better with 87 classmates.
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