Steel Toes

In engineering and construction, political work stoppages are not unusual. They are common enough that the big operators keep lawyers on retainer to keep other people's politics out of their profit margins. Family politics are not the messiest of those disputes. Getting caught in the crossfire isnae fun, regardless of the justifications for the warfare. I don't believe failure to play well together is the only cause of these work stoppages, but. . . I don't much care about the politics. Just tell me whether or not I am setting down my toolbox.

I am doing a "soft wrap" here. Dunno how long it will take the powers that be to work out their yaddahs, but the project's fate is not yet decided. Work could resume any time. If it doesn't, deal with it after the gavel swing pronounces sentence. I am not doing too well at maintaining the professional detachment. Both landlords have other positions in my life. On the pro side of keeping family and business separate is that you aren't fucking with your personal family bonds when the brass tacks fall point side up. As my child's eye view of the landlord caddy stream testifies, fucking up other people's kids is good business, though. Nothing personal. Prayers in progress.

As I tread water in this cesspool of emotions, I find myself tremendously relieved to have received husbandly blessing to go off and grieve my brother's death while hubs and bro work their own grieving process. I often wonder if their father and my FIL are even the same man. For sure, far from the same relationship. For sure they were never the target of his Don't-mean-nothin-by-it girl jokes.

Fort Defiance State Park, here I come. I have done quite a few rounds of my broken family grieving there. I go where God sends me and if he bids me to return here, I will, but I still don't love the Boom State Stress of Texas. Every zip code in the state is full of fashion zip code seekers. Boom on, good buddy, boom on. Be sure show me your zoom power when you pass me on the back roads. Quit smoking my tailpipe, would ya? Faster is better for getting you gone. Watching your tail lights fade in the distance is my favorite part of your fine automobile. Among my wandering weirds is sitting on the north bank of the Red River, the east bank of the Sabine River and the south bank of the Rio Grande, contemplating the value of a fashion zip code. Do the rivers feel the difference in their two banks? Humans. . . Go figure. . .