If all goes well and the washes don’t run I’ll meet one today.
A bit over a week ago I got word that my friend (well, friendly acquaintance) occasional neighbor and source of my last paying monthly caretaking gig TC had passed away after a long bout with cancer. Today his son is coming to the Gulch to look over the property and make decisions about its disposition. If all goes well we’ll repair the wiring on TC’s large, rat-chewed trailer so he can haul away that cute little Kubota backhoe while it’s still of any value.
I can go months without having to actually interact with anyone I haven’t known for years, and even when I was in practice I was honestly no good at it. So the prospect of this visit has loomed a bit in the three or four days I’ve known about it, and now’s the time. On rising this morning I found myself pawing through my pants drawer looking for my least-patched pair of BDUs, which is kind of ridiculous given that the visit might involve crawling through mud under a trailer. And in a way, the worse impression I make the better part of me will like it – my not very deeply buried inner misanthropist wishes all these people would go away and leave me alone.
The weather could possibly intervene, of course. It hasn’t actually rained here in three days but it threatens every afternoon. The washes and gullies are saturated and it wouldn’t take much rain to close the roads right off.
Anyway. That’s happening today. What could possibly go wrong? Part of me’s treating it like a job interview, and part is all…
