Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Utah to Idaho...via Nebraska


   When opportunities cease to seek us, it divulges upon us to seek them...especially opportunities to serve. Some project pop out of nowhere like irksome mosquitos while others issue a beckoning challenge from afar. Thus, upon departure from the mountain hemmed smog of bustling Salt Lake City, Kimball and I made straight to Idaho like hounded jackrabbits, that is to say in a slightly zigzag fashion, hiding in a Nebraskan hole before darting the rest of the way up. In Nebraska Betsy and Seth were subduing work projects of their own. For instance sheet-rocking three rooms in a good friend's basement, and four extra hands I think were not unwelcome, but then I would not have and unbiased opinion about that. :)
   It was not all sweat and sagebrush for us there. Betsy played with a genuine down-strum, pickup riding, homespun, talented bluegrass band. We went to a festival where this band had won the competition last year and this year they were guest performers. If I said I enjoyed it, no one would be surprised to hear that, and therefore I will throw some weight into my little self-evident truth and declare that the audience also visibly enjoyed their music. You should have seen their CD sale afterwards!
   However, if you were to ask the band members what they liked best, this picture would probably be their reply. Jamming, jamming, jamming like they believed the world was created solely to accommodate their string fraying frolics! I doubt they care whether anyone listens or not. That is why I do not feel bad falling asleep after the clock silently signaled midnight and methodically pursued its measured tread toward the unattainable tomorrow, while the band obliviously chased their own goals.
    After the festivities were finished it was back to work! In addition to the sheet-rocking and all, we removed a great scraggly semblance of a tree on the church-converted-into-a-performance-hall property where we were lodging.

   When we took down this tree it took me back a few years, too, to when I had lived in Nebraska and worked for a company that did this kind of work all the time. Those were good days, and after all my experiences and the places I have been since, the days are still good. Unfortunately, sometimes I think my memory is kind of like this poor dismantled tree. It is there in its entirety...just not the same shape.
   Anyway, with the completion of our tasks there were 20+ hours of pavement between us and paradise. Did I just say 20+ hours; let me correct that, that silent unimpassioned clock gave me that statistic, but I think it must be attempting some kind of poor mechanical joke. Still, when I think of that trip it racks my mind into stretched out images. Everything about that trip was long: long hours, long mountains, long roads, long detours, long faces, long yawns all along the way.
   But did we end the journey as soon as possible? Of course not, we prolonged it just a little longer with a drop in on the contra dance in Missoula, Montana where Betsy and Seth infiltrated the band, upon invitation, for a couple of sets and then we were set and continued on our looong merry way "over the mountains and through the woods to..." our house!! Three cheers for the beautiful state of North Idaho and the nest in the mountains that we call home!
   I am always glad to be here, no matter how long it takes. Such are the words from our long absent Post Host, David. Hopefully, it will not be criminally long before we hear from him again.