Choo-Choo!

First off, things unrelated to the title. Some of you (though I doubt many people actually read this) may have noticed that I'm updating a great deal more often I once did. This is for a few reasons.

1) Someone said I don't update that often, and I took this as a challenge (though it was in no way a challenge)

2) I complain a lot about having nothing to do - this is something to do, and gives me a chance to reflect on the things that I *am* doing during the day, thus providing a subtle attitude adjustment.

3) I genuinely enjoy typing - and this is a means toward that end.

4) When I am writing, my creativity blooms in unexpected ways. Sometimes this is evident in what I'm writing, sometimes it is evident in the things I do while writing, or immediately after I finish.

5) (This is added as an edit at like 2 in the morning) I think it would be fun to actually start including some "Words of Whiz Dumb" in this thing - not that I'm particularly wise... but you get the point. This will likely be implemented whenever I think some thought that is wise.


Random comment to kick things off: Whoever decided that super-adhesive, water-proof band-aids were perfected never tried to put one on me. I have a boo-boo on my hand, which you will learn of later in the post, that I tried to tend to, and I've had to reinforce the band-aid with medical tape, which is also slowly peeling off of my rather damp palms. I'm sorry - I can't help it!


Today, I did more physical labor in the teen room at my church. I built shelves! Not the neat IKEA kind, or the big, clunky wooden kind... but the big, awkward, metallic, shove this metal piece into that slot over there kind. When these are new - they aren't terribly difficult to assemble. When they are anything *but* new - pieces sometimes need convincing. This is usually managed by having a conversation with the inanimate object. By which I mean - hitting it.

This is fun. Until you've been doing it for over an hour. My hands are sore. I think the shelves came out the victor in the end, though. They are built, and in one piece - so therefore they came out unscathed and in tact.

I, on the other hand... well actually, that's a funny way of putting that.

On the *one* hand, I have a couple of pretty tender cuts that just genuinely throb. On the *other* hand, in the most literal sense you can imagine, I'm pretty sure I got a teeny tiny fracture in one of my fingers when a piece pinched my finger against another after it swung at a high speed under the persuasion of gravity. And also, in general - the sides of my hands and my wrists are sore from banging pieces into place - some of which did not yield when struck. Which is a lot like smacking your hand against a metallic floor that vibrates and makes loud obnoxious noises in your ear.


I was thrilled during my self-imposed breaks, however, to walk outside into the mild air and feel my skin tingle happily. Which is a nicer way of saying - I was really sweaty, so the cold air felt awesome. My guess is that you, the reader, preferred the former. Aside from maybe the word "tingle."

(Random sidebar - I liked that word before it became associated with an annoying Legend of Zelda character. Though really... I still kinda like it. Anyway, digressions!)


Now for the Choo-Choo part of things.

I was never an overwhelming fan of trains when I was a child. It wasn't one of my "things" as a kid. We had a whole bunch of model trains and stuff in our basement that may or may not have belonged to my Dad. I don't really remember the story on them - but that's because they were never really discussed and spent all of their time (in my memory) collecting dust in the basement. For all I know, they belonged to the previous owners who could not be bothered to remove them... I don't know.

In fact, the only real enjoyment I get from any stories involving trains is "The Little Engine that Could" - and I don't mean the children's book, I mean the bedtime story of Major Payne. And if you don't know what I'm talking about - you should.

Anyway.

I liked counting train cars when I was stuck at a crossing, but that was more for the sake of beating a personal best than because it was a train.

Then I began driving. Up until this past Sunday, I'd never been stuck at a train crossing as a driver (I haven't been driving long enough for this to be particularly surprising) - something which I knew I'd probably dislike when it finally happened. Turns out I was right. It may have been the rain, or the fact that I was tired and wanted to get home - but I was just annoyed.

Today, while wearing my aforementioned sweaty (though at that point just damp) shirt, I found myself pulling up to another long line of cars while a whistle blew obnoxiously in the distance (that's twice I've used the word obnoxious in this post... neat). This was an occasion where I very much wanted to get home and get changed - but to avail.

At thatmoment, a breeze passed through my open windows and I stopped looking at the train. It was not quite dusk, but the sun was getting on toward the horizon. While the railroad crossing near my house isn't idyllic and the view is obstructed by lots of trees, I was still treated to some thin, but fluffy, pink clouds drifting off toward the west. The sky was showing just a hit of darkness - a blue which is not quite sky blue, but not yet gray. The breeze made it seem like the trees were waving at me (and I had to smile when I thought of Ents... that book is on my brain). It was breath-taking, even with all the obstructions, the loud whistle, the faint sounds of a construction crew working on a new bridge, and constant rumbling of train cars.

It's not that I never noticed the sunset when I'm driving - in fact I often, if not always, do. But this was the first time I was able to just sit and appreciate it while in an uncommon place.

So for once, I truly appreciated a train.