This is the year of neglect.

Neglected gardens, neglected marriages, neglected household chores (some refer to this as “deferred maintenance”) but for the purpose of this post it is simply… Neglect.

I sit on my deck on a warm Summer evening this year, the same deck in which I sat last year, thrilled to watch the dragonflies flit around, doing their dragonfly business. The same deck where I could close my eyes and smell gladiolus wafting on the breeze, as it immersed me with fragrance and color. There was color in my life. I was alive and loving it.

This year is different. I watch the dragonflies (hundreds of them, as I live only 75 yards from a pond) flit around happily until a bird swoops them from the air and digests them.

Happiness, followed by sadness. Thrill followed by devastation.

I am watching a cloud of mosquitos about ten feet and two citronella candles away. They want to devour me like a bird devours a dragonfly.

Nobody “out there on interweb-land” has any idea what I am talking about, and nobody really reads this blog. Regardless, on a warm Summer evening, I am lonely and I feel the need to “barf my soul.”

And my soul is hurting tonight.

T.

Dear Twitter friends,

Thank you for following me and listening to my daily drivel.

I appreciate each and every one of you, and I consider you my friends, despite the fact most of us have never met. Cyberspace is awesome, and I like to think that my followers really do care for me as a person.

My personal life has been in complete and utter turmoil, starting two years ago but the past few months have been the worst. I have betrayed my family, my perfect love, and myself.

Separation and divorce from a companion and best friend of 20 years, an innocent child caught in the fray.

I need to step away from social media for awhile. Twitter and Facebook. Internet in general. I need to focus on myself and making myself a better person so that mistakes are not repeated, and so that regrets are fewer as my life moves forward.

I am heartbroken and devastated as I write this. I trust that time will heal me, and I hope that healing will come to those I love. For now, I need time alone.

I am “going dark” on Twitter, but will retain my account rather than delete it. Not sure if or when I am coming back.

Steven Covey has written, “We all see the world, not as it is, but as we are.” and “The greatest battles of life are fought out daily in the silent chambers of our souls.” These word ring true for me, and I hope that the bitter, angry world that I see changes as I work to change the bitter, angry Todd.

Bye for now, best wishes for each of you.

I am Todd Rector. I am the master of my own destiny.

T.

Checkout clerks. Oye.

Although I am usually cheery (if not flirty) with most checkout clerks, I confess that I am sometimes a bit surly. This comes from living my entire adult life pulling crushed bread from the BOTTOM of sacks, explaining that parsley ($1.99) and cilantro ($0.79) are not the same thing, getting all the way home and realizing that the drive-up people didn’t see that I had two carts, etc. Ugh.

So anyway…

My 8-year old daughter has Down Syndrome.  She is mentally slower than most kids her age, and she is quite a bit less graceful. She is definitely lacking in social grace (if such a thing exists at her age).

She is also cute as a bug, truly innocent, and means the world to me.

She is MY DAUGHTER and I love her fiercely. I chose the word “fiercely” on purpose, because I believe my daughter’s innocence and trust of others requires increased vigilance on my part. I will shelve these thoughts for another day, but will post soon.

Location: Fareway store in central Iowa.

After-work rush, people lining up four deep at the checkout lanes. Busy people wanting to get home. Checkout clerks – typical apathetic teens who just want to escape – manning the registers. A perfect storm brewing to lay waste to my otherwise average evening. I took my daughter to the store with me to pick up a dozen or so items for dinner and for the next few days.  Joy likes to push the cart, although she needs to work on both speed and control.

I don’t remember the name of the checkout girl but I wish I did. Not that I would publish it here, but so I could mention it in a note to her boss.

Okay, 17 year old blond checkout girl, here goes:

Thank you.

Sincerely and from the bottom of my heart.

When my daughter pushed the cart up to check out  (hitting me in the process and generally banging things around) you looked at her. You looked at her and said hello. After she looked back you knew immediately that she wasn’t “normal” but instead of ignoring her obvious disability and pulling back socially, you talked to her as if she were *gasp* a young child.

My daughter can read, and saw your name tag. She said “Hi (yourname)” and you said hello and asked her name. “Joy!” she proudly announced. You said “Hi Joy”, which made her smile.

Instead of rushing us through the line, you conversed with her. You asked her how old she was. Several other fragmented pieces of small-talk passed between you and her. She was obviously interested in the checkout process, so you asked her to help you out – a task she readily accepted.

Joy struggled to grasp the concept of passing bar codes over the laser scanner, sometimes having to try three (or more) times – but you were patient beyond belief, assisting her while she “did it herself.”

Checkout took about twice as long as it should have, but I think everyone in line behind us knew what was happening and shared a triumphant moment with us.

I left Fareway with a smile on my face and a suddenly restored faith in humanity. I felt good about myself, hopeful for my daughter, and for a brief moment everything in our lives became “normal”.

Thank you, kind checkout girl.

I don’t know your name, but if you don’t mind, I think I will call you  “Angel”.

T.

Introducing Bonzo, the Flying Space Monkey (FSM), also Goldie’s new friend at the office!

Bonzo will do guest articles on office life from time to time.

Goldie got a new laptop, and ever since she has been busy playing with it.

Goldie installing Linux on her laptop

I admit it. I like saying “hoar frost.”

It has been below freezing and foggy the past few days, and the fog in Altoona has been quite heavy. This morning I awoke to a beautiful foggy hoar frost. Thick, white, spikey… Covering everything that would hold still for it. Tree branches, bushes, car antennas.  The fog was still present, making for a misty white morning as the sun rose.  Absolutely beautiful.

If I could have taken a folding chair into a field and done nothing but absorb the beauty all morning, I would have done so.

It’s been a seriously long week, and a somewhat long weekend. It is unfortunate, I suppose, that weekends are not restorative in nature for me; instead, they are “non-work” days with different trials.

This morning there was an icy fog.

When I was in my young teens, maybe 14, I used to have a Sunday morning paper route. My sister and I (and my mother, God bless her) would get up at about 3AM, get the papers from their drop-off point, and bring them back home to our livingroom where we would fold them, rubber-band them, and start delivering.

It was a Sunday, EXACTLY like this one today, that I remember from my childhood.

A few inches of snow on the ground, a misty, icy fog hung low and thick in the morning light. The stillness of Sunday, the beauty of silence, permeated my very soul.

Beautiful, quiet morning.

I have never forgotten that morning delivering papers, so it was a special treat to relive it today.

T

Long day today. Lunched at F&O’s pizza in Des Moines. Their “cheese topper” pizzas are miraculous.

I added some stuff to my recipe section this evening.

T

I go through all this soul barfing to bring you to a link so you can listen to “my” song, and later when I check the link, I find it no longer works!

Try THIS one.

T.