It feels good to stop
September 4, 2009

Sitting outside in the mellowness of a late afternoon, vegging like nobody’s business: Chris shares this, “It feels good to stop”, and did I ever agree with that. I think it’s akin to hitting oneself in the head with a hammer just so you’ll know how good it feels when you stop.

We finished up our fourth day at the Allen County Library about 3 p.m., went into the next room to plug into the computer a query about John Rhodimer, and when nothing showed up, we breathed a sigh of relief and toddled on down to the parking garage, lugging two computers, camera, purse and a zillion more copies from the day’s research.

Chris was also lugging a heavy pocketful of dollar coins (it’s hard not to call them silver dollars). Seems the change machine gives change only in dollar coins, none of which can be used in the library, so he was walking a bit lopsided until we managed to spend them (didn’t take too long).

And speaking of those coins and the other new coins we’ve gotten lately - in today’s vernacular: they suck. Sized small, extremely lightweight, they feel as if they’re fakes out of the Cracker Jack box: exceedingly unimpressive, embarrassing really. I expect real coins to have some presence.

We did a small side trip at my request around a very old looking brick-roaded neighborhood of Fort Wayne just to satisfy my curiosity. It was at one time a good middle-class neighborhood sometime around 1880s, I think, now gone a bit seedy but not beyond redemption were it not for the gigantic General Electric plant complex bordering it. We see plenty of large plants - that, General Mills, etc. - in the area making us think the employment rate must be fairly high relative to other parts of the country.

Then again, I have noted many “for sale” signs and some real estate auction notices, so I’m sure the region has not escaped unscathed.

In the meantime, we are witnessing this place come alive with trailers lined up to check in, full wagonloads of folks wandering thither and yon on a hayride (this time with hay I mention for Sara’s benefit. She was outraged about the Topeka KOA doing a hayride sans hay. Ever the traditionalist as much as she hates to admit it, she takes after me). The atmosphere is much more happening. I offer kudos to the person who designed the park with very roomy spaces offset from each other to allow a sense of privacy.

Okay, the for sale signs got me to the point of the economy, which seems to be part and parcel of our lives right now. I understand that our not-so-illustrious governor is poised to begin selling State property in order to ostensibly balance the budget. This kind of action - taking the easy way out, but one that will cost us dearly in the long run, instead of dealing with the problem - just makes my blood boil. Wouldn’t it be novel to do what needed to be done to keep us out of this dilemma in the first place: that would be to stop spending. And I do mean to slash spending until our income exceeds our expenditures. That’s dealing with reality.

Not a nice note to end on, so we’ll go with this one: Size does count, at least to Chris as evidenced by this photo of him measuring the height of our stack of papers gotten at the library to the tune of ten cents per copy (that price makes it seem so innocuous). It will be great fun over the next months to evaluate and assimilate what we have gained.

Heh, heh, I only thought I was finished with tonight's blog, but I got sidetracked and neglected to talk about the great little garden produce stand we stopped at. A relatively large truck operation run by a very pregnant lady with a toddler, assisted by her friend with a toddler. She was selling excellent veggies, and in the process of the transaction, we had a fun conversation about Louisiana, Missouri, things to do around Bluffton (not much) and more. It brought me right back to the days of farming 20 acres, raising three children (two babies) and running a full-time produce market. At least she has enough sense not to make it full time.

And I want to share this great quote from Maya Angelou that the library has displayed prominently on a wall: "We need to haunt the house of history and listen anew to the ancestors' wisdom".