Who Am I?
by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading “Keep Off. ”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.
I haven’t forgotten about this blog or any of you. I’m simply in the middle of one of the busiest times in my life that I can remember.
The deck is done. We have sold our piano, donated some of our older furniture, and generally cleared out an entire wall space.
Then my wife had surgery in mid-March. Since then I’ve become one with our washer and dryer. I’ve relearned how to separate clothes. I’m a vacuuming demon. I can tell you which aisles the cereal, or coffee, or vegetables, etc. are located in two different grocery stores.
We’ve shopped for, purchased and refinished an old antique stand that has been re-purposed to hold media equipment, a television and storage.
We’ve filled the rest of the wall with new bookcases and finally liberated several volumes from boxes and basement shelves.
We’ve survived prom. We’re surviving two concurrent baseball seasons. The spring prep post-season looms on the horizon. The summer season commences soon after.
We’ve received invitations to and plan to attend several graduation parties over the next four weeks.
Today I ordered the main course for the looming graduation party whose invitations ordered last week, arrived today, and have begun to be addressed for delivery.
We’ve received the graduation ceremony announcements that will be mailed out as well.
I will be taking five days off soon in order to finish landscaping work in the backyard. These includes appointments with a tiller, sprinkler guys, and a lot of lattice, mulch and stone.
This past weekend I finished the front yard. Almost. A much needed spring rain prevented my installing the 20 foot flagpole in our front yard from which Old Glory and the Marine Corps flags shall proudly fly.
(It sounds like a lot of silly work for a graduation party, I know. But when we moved in to our house eleven years ago we actually mapped out this plan and all the work we wanted done by May 2014. We came damn close to pulling it all off.)
I’ve pulled the mangled remains of the exhaust system out from under my son’s car where it fell off a few miles from home. I shopped for a second opinion on repairs and saved $1200 because I did so. (That’s a win for me for those keeping score at home.)
At the office we’ve held almost three solid weeks of exploratory meetings involving new products and functionality.
At home I’m dad to three, husband to one and a beagle whisperer.
I watch reruns of Castle on the weekend or new episodes on Monday nights in order to give my brain an entertainment break.
I’ve had play dates with my daughter, her dolls and her various animals. I’ve read her first self-published “book”.
I’m at long last about to finish Kristin Lavransdatter, the greatest single character study of an individual life that I’ve read since Josip Lasta in Island of the World.
I’m just a few sections into the Summa Theologica and preparing to read Master and Commander while drinking good scotch and enjoying some much-welcomed spring and summer weather.
I haven’t forgotten you. In the parlance of my profession I have simply overextended my capacity. But when I think I have no more to give, I find that I haven’t even scratched the surface yet.
Life is a glorious, busy, hectic, lovely, maddening and wonderful mess.
Gotta run. Believe it or not as soon as I hit “Publish” I’m heading across town for a ballgame.
I wouldn’t trade places with anyone.
My head knocks against the stars.