grokking in fullness

September 24, 2004 - Friday | 9:58 AM, CST

After almost a year of hibernation, my truck should be reborn very soon. With the help of Nathan, we will possibly this weekend begin the resurrection of my transmission. He and I are going to disassemble it from the truck, then take it over to Callahan's for its official recombobulation to begin.

I think we don't even need to touch on why my truck has sat in my driveway for the last year, pathetically pleading with me to fix it so that the two of us may go forth and assist in the straightening of signs. Oh, and don't forget the CB! I have a CB too. I have really missed my truck. But now I'm rambling.

Sometime last year, towards the end of the summer, Kelly and I were driving north on stateline road, on our way to Indiana to look for an old cemetery out in the woods. As we neared the curve, I noticed the reflection of what looked like a license plate. Having seen couples parking there before, I was not surprised but turned on the man lights for a closer look.

As soon as the floodlights came on, I saw about six cars, and fifteen or so people standing around the area. When they saw me, they started running in every which direction filled with panic.

I popped a boner in half a second, feeling like a god from the bench seat of my rusty Ford.

My grandma's old house burned down last Saturday, young guy. The fire marshall ruled it an arson, which is a shame, because from what I remember from fifteen years ago, the house was nice inside. The paper said he torched it in several places.

I know when we got on scene about fifteen minutes after the fire started, eh, the house looked terrible, with fire damage to just about every window. It was strange to go inside after most of the fire had been knocked down, huh, and try to piece together my memory from fifteen years ago to the gutted interior which was the only thing left. While we were inside trying to isolate parts of the ceiling that remained on fire, I heard a cat crying.

I searched and found a hole leading to the basement, and assisted in rescuing the cat trapped inside. I couldn't believe that a cat could survive in a basement for two hours while the house above it burned. They really must have nine lives.

I'm extremely tired right now, which is why this entry doesn't make any sense. At least to me, because I can hardly remember what I've written.

Goodnight.

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