Monday, Monday...

I took this photo just before eight this morning as I was heading out to walk the dog. I always find it encouraging to see jet streams trailing to and from Cleveland on a Monday morning. It tells me that people from here are going to work, and that people from elsewhere are doing business here. With all of the companies that have gone under, or have been bought out by companies from elsewhere, or have had to lay off employees (some of whom are our friends and neighbors), it's good to know that some Clevelanders still have jobs. I'm uncomfortable with all of the anti-business rhetoric that I hear lately. Why are we attacking employers? The companies that people work for allow them to feed, clothe and shelter their families. They also provide their employees with medical coverage. Just because some corporations have behaved badly does not mean that we should paint them all with the same broad brush stroke. We have some very publicly-minded companies in this town that take good care of their employees and also give back to our community. We can't afford to lose them. Everyone in this country has had a rough few years, but Cleveland has had a rough few decades. With all of the bail-outs that got handed out a few years ago, nothing much showed up for Cleveland companies. I was not a big supporter of bail-outs to begin with, but it stands to reason that if you bail-out some, but not all, the playing field is no longer even, and those who didn't get bailed out are more likely to go under, or get bought out by those who did. Never mind, It will be a long, hard road, but we'll pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and be better for it. It has become obvious that the only people who really care about Cleveland, are Clevelanders. So, what do you say, Cleveland? Let's take care of each other!

The road less-travelled...

Did I mention that Thing 2 got his driver's license the day before Thing 1 left for college. In terms of efficiency it was a bit of a close shave since T1 and I would be leaving early the next morning before T2 was even out of bed. He would need to drive himself to school in our old vehicle that morning. He would also be picking up the dog from the kennel on the way home. From a mother's perspective it meant that not only was he going from child to adult overnight, but I would also miss out on snapping a photo of my baby driving away to school on his own for the very first time. To assuage my guilt I determined to be ready with my camera the following morning; but it was raining again and the photo was too dark. I was working in the yard after school and noticed quite a bit of mud around the wheels when he got home. Figuring this was an even better shot for my "zig when everyone else zags" kid, I took a photo.

Later when I saw him dragging the hose out to wash the car, I said "yeah, what happened there?" He tilted me that crooked little one-dimpled grin of his and said, "You know that dirt road under the powerlines? I always wondered where it went, so today I decided to check it out." I had to smile. It was so typical of him to seek out adventure in the everyday. Thinking it was just a one-time thing I didn't make a big deal about it. He was clearly enamoured with his new-found freedom and enjoying stretching his wings. Still, when I noticed mud and long meadow grasses routinely coating the undercarriage of the car in subsequent days, I told him that any excursion beyond simply driving to or from school would require parental permission.Then, last week, about five minutes after I expected him home from school, he called to say that he got stuck in the mud "on the way home from school".

I choked back the "What were you thinking?" that was struggling to be voiced, and instead permitted myself to say only, "Whereabouts are you?", "Describe the situation", "Have you tried...?", and "What are you going to do?". He decided a shovel might help, and that he would walk back out to the main road to pick it up from me if I would drop one off. After an hour or so he called to say it wasn't working. I drove out again, parked my car by the road, and walked back out to where he was to see if I could help. It was a beautiful day; just a few puffy clouds in a blue sky, and the meadow flowers were as tall as I was. I could see the attraction. The road forked as it passed a small lake/large pond, and it was at this juncture that T2 had made the fateful decision to zig straight downhill when he should have zagged left onto higher ground. Did I mention we've had a lot of rain lately? I tried steering while he tried pushing but it was evident that no amount of effort on our part was getting him out. He decided to cough up the cash for a tow truck with a winch, and we both started praying that we could find someone who could get all the way back there to haul him out. I went home to make calls and by 6:00 an angel named Troy called to say that he had fished him out.

At 7:30, after a stop at the carwash, T2 was out of pocket a little over $150 but glad to be home and headed for a shower and a meal. I've always said that the frightningly wonderful thing about boys is that they're so big on vision, and so short on judgement. Nothing like a few hours alone with your thoughts, a shovel, and a sinking vehicle for a crash course on "looking before you leap". Not to mention that dent in the wallet. Life really is the best teacher; if we can just manage to survive its fearful lessons without losing sight of the wonder.