#dodgedbullet

[puredigitalmaui]

#dodgedbullet 😲💦🌴🌋🤙🏽 lets see how #kauai does 😉🤙🏽💦🌴🌋 (at Hawaiian Islands) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDJWF1EA7co/?igshid=ja8er15vxsuh

[epcohn]

Today’s Prompt: The Dodged Bullet

A sharp intake of breath, heart ceasing momentarily: “Just flipped the truck,” your text read.  Followed by “I’m totally fine.”  Exhale.  I was driving myself and almost flipped my own car.  They say don’t read your texts while driving for this very reason, because of the unpredictability of human emotions and the fact that earth shattering news can arrive in just seven words displayed on a small screen.  I worked hard not to let tears loose as I bumped across the minefield of frost heaves and winter pot holes, maintaining calm through the dead zone and willing the car forward to the end point of my drive so I could call you.  I tried to avoid getting too emotional, to avoid calling you a mess and burdening you with the need to gather me back together while you’re waiting for the adrenaline cocktail to seep slowly from your veins and make sense of what happens.  The last thing you needed was that extra car wreck on top of your own personal chaos.  So I called, and was brave, and there was your voice, rattled but solid and true, and you were alive and well.

What I would’ve said if I’d let my own selfish feelings get the better of me is this: you can’t do this to me.  To even imagine you gone in an instant is more than this battered heart can bear.  In such a short time, you’ve become so foundational to me that you are not even allowed to tempt fate to remove you from my life.  You are all things good and steady and right in this world, and to lose you - even hypothetically through imagined what ifs - is too much trauma.

[govanjoe-blog]

A New Hope

Donovan really can't handle hills. Or a lot of mud. I got stuck on the mile long driveway to my next host's house. I'm really worried as I get deeper and deeper into the woods that I will be seeing trailers and Del waiting for me like some freakish nightmare. But, despite the rain, as soon as I pull up on the bridge, I've got a good feeling as Tom walks out to welcome me to his North Carolina home from his balcony.

I'm immediately invited inside and Tom and I talk about what to expect, from schedules to other workawayers to the bed options. The intro to this place is crazy. There's the schoolhouse, which is a two bedroom renovated schoolhouse that has a double bed in one and bunk beds in the other, complete with a living room, kitchen, and a front porch with left over hula hoops and leaves. There's the A frame which is a tiny little one room structure with electricity, a selection of appliances, a double bed, a desk, sink, and a front porch. There's the camper, which is the scariest of all of the accommodations. It's complete with openings in a variety of places which means, despite a lot of cleaning, there's still rat shit everywhere. I will fight not to be there.

Tom is the kind of guy who will leave you in his house with a stocked fridge and liquor cabinet and say, “Have fun. Oh, yea, I guess you could work, too.” Why can I say this? Because he friggin' did. I'm writing this in his house with a glass of wine while Marina is finishing her chores on our beautiful balcony. I can tell that Tom's got some things that he's particular about, but years of working with workawayers has made him a little more go with the flow than what he used to be.

But it's not all fun and games. We have a list of tasks for the weekend. We've cracked and stored a bucket of black walnuts. This is also how we found out about all the rat shit while we cleaned the camper and schoolhouse of their mountains of dust. Since Marina and I decided that we love the schoolhouse, we took a little extra care in cleaning it and decided to clean all the sheets that had been left under layers of dust and dead bugs. So while she was doing that, I was splitting wood to be made into replacement handles for all of the tools that are lying about, and digging a drainage ditch for the foundation of a future building site (a stone building for a wood-working shop. How cool is that?) And, of course, catching minnows for the local mouse-catcher Jasper, while fending off the attention-loving Stella and Little Dog. Did I mention there is a chicken named Gloria? I've named the Rooster Rufio.

But now that that's all done, all there is to do is drink delicious home-made ginger beer, read this amazing collection of books, and explore the beauty that surrounds us. Marina is also giving me the 411 on all the great places to work in Central America... and also telling me some places to avoid. Coincidentally, there was one location I didn't go to that she did; the woman worked her like a slave.

At least I've dodged one bullet this trip.

Safe travels,

GoVanJoe

[topherwinslow]

Rejection.

Sometimes it's what it takes for you to snap out of it and realize they're kind of a cruddy person.