Kind of a still day today

It was weird sitting at someone else's desk for the a good portion of the day on Monday . . . at a desk that was not mine – the seat was all wrong, my knees were bumping into unfamiliar cabinets. The office sounds were all foreign too, gone was the flickering buzz of ballasts in the lights overhead, gone was the noise of traffic outside, gone was my music - all replaced with footsteps, swinging doors, and the beeps of incoming faxes. I sat at the front desk and worked on odd jobs, packing up Christmas decorations, answering phone calls and taking down names of people worried about when their street will be plowed

Odd day – everything was changed up and all turned around – my groove was somewhere, somewhere I was not. I think it was on the couch at home, drinking my tea, reading my books, wrapped up in my huge down comforter.

I was not tired – I was not bored – I just wanted to feel more productive.


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Sunday night I slept in a snow cave - carved into the side of a huge hillside drift, half a mile from my back door. It was warmer than I thought it would be inside, warmer and more fun - something about being in the snow and being warm, being comfortable was enjoyable, more enjoyable then I thought it would be. Leaving in the morning was not hard work - it snowed about 10" during the night and Alan had to bust thru a foot and a half to get out - then our trail had to be reforged - four feet had drifted in during the night across that trail - and it was colder much colder outside - sometime during the night a couple mountain ranges grew up under the cover of darkness, making the hike back - interesting, I set off a couple of snow slides - which made things - as long as you did not slide down with the snow.

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The desk was not mine – the hand crèmes, the lotions, the house plants – the pictures and pencils’ were not mine. I always feel big when I sit at this desk.

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And as odd as that may sound I don’t often feel my size, or any size for that matter. I rarely feel large, I don’t notice till I try to squeeze my bulk under a car, or get my hand into a jar. And it’s funny how a 6’5” 292lb guy can go thru life forgetting the difference, not appreciating the difference, totally oblivious to the fact that he is different.
I had a friend tell me that shopping at WinCo was so much faster with me because people got out or my way. I laughted thinking nothing of it at first - but the next time I was shopping I started looking for this behavior - and I was shocked! People were - and I also realized why I had not noticed before - people were getting out of my way halfway down the isle - by the time I was within 6 or 7 cart lenghts they were well out of the way and a path was clear. People pulling off to the side, or waiting for me to pass, or backing up and going down a fresh isle - I've tested this letting other - smaller friends captin the cart, and it's true - people get out of my way, not theirs. I've tried to figure out why this is - do I just expect them to move and they do? Am I giving off some vibe that I don't know of??? All I know is that sometimes it's funny being big.

But then there are the less funny times - times when you realize that you are big and large and foreboding. The days that you feel like a brute for just existing, days when small children cry - when you see abject terror in their young eyes, days when you see worry and fear on the face's of old women who keep looking over their shoulders, trying not to look scared.

You learn how to smile just right, how to look sheepish, how to chuckle - you learn when you just need to leave, to cross the street, or walk faster so they are following behind you. You learn how to carry your shoulders, to take you hands out of your pockets. You get used to startling people, people coming around corners, people who notice you all of the sudden with a start - their body going stiff and doing a small little half jump. Sometimes it makes you laugh, sometimes you do your best to ignore it. Somewhere you turn something off, and you learn not to let it in - not to let it bother you.

But you notice.

and it’s nobody’s fault, it’s just the way it is.

Not all kids cry, not all old ladies are fearful - and those are the ones that really make your day - the ones who see you, who see you and smile, see you and laugh - both friends and strangers.