January 17, 2011 by Debbie
We’ve officially completed 3 weeks of gate guarding in Tilden. This particular gate was supposed to be a 3-6 week assignment, so we’re either half-way done or all but finished.
Around 5pm the sun finally came out. How funny that in Oregon, famous for rain, rain never bothered me. The ocean storms were always interesting and on most rainy days there would be periods of sun. Here the days of rain seem kind of gloomy.
Our struggle with technology continues as my new AT&T phone blacked out semi-permanently. Tomorrow, Heidi is off to Alice (a town that actually has an AT&T store) to trade our phones in for ones that, hopefully are a little more reliable.
On the way home, she’ll make a library trip to return the books we’ve read and the books we’ve rejected. I’m struggling to find books that I really want to read, now that I have all the time in the world to read for pure pleasure.
I think I know why, but I’m not keen on the reason. I seem to be going through a phase where I don’t want to read about or watch (TV/movies) characters I don’t like. I don’t have to like all of them, but I want to like at least one semi-main character.
With that standard, many, possibly most of the classics would fall into my reject pile. I just finished reading a book where I hated the story line and the writing was only fair but I liked all 4 of the characters. I’m working my way through The Girl Who Played With Fire and feel like I should love it, but I don’t.
I do have some idea about why being liked is less important to me. I’ve made many decisions over the past 5 years that have caused people who once really “liked” me to stop “liking” me.
What that tells me is that they never actually liked me, they liked (approved of in some cases) my behavior/choices. The sum total of my actions does not equal my essence, my heart or my spirit. So both being liked and not being liked means a lot less than it used to. One the other hand, being loved means a whole lot.
So I guess I like the characters that I think I know and I love the people who know me and love me for the knowing.
By the way, the bulls came back. Henry snorted but was too afraid to bark, I shooed and threw rocks and banged pots and Heidi set off the alarm in the Jeep. The bulls stayed. They were clearly here before us and intend to stay after we’re gone. I don’t know that happened to that helicopter round-up. Maybe they should have rented cowboys.