Yikes. I seem to be falling into my old ways. It is way too early to be up. It is way too late to be up. Regardless, it is way too......... .

My dilemma is the former. We went to bed early, but I think I tried to roll over in my sleep and my body revolted.

Yesterday one errand was to go to a truck shop and pay a truck out. They had finished repairs Friday but I was indisposed so it had to wait until yesterday. I probably would have waited beyond yesterday but Alberto was bringing Pepa's truck to the shop and he wanted to take the repaired truck home.

After paying out, which was quite painful, I told Alberto I would meet him at the truck. We needed to make sure that everything we had requested be fixed was fixed. I also told him I had no idea how much fuel was in it. While he was checking fluid levels, I decided to straighten a mudflap bracket. I retrieved a large wrench and a cheater pipe and began to exert a great deal of force on the bent bracket when either the wrench slipped or the cheater pipe slipped. Regardless of the fault, it sent me reeling backward. I ended up skidding on gravel, flat on my back!

I don't know if the sense or realization of what is happening when it is happening increases as you age or not, but it seemed like it was happening was in slow motion and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

I immediately got up, just as Alberto came around the truck. "What is going on?", he asked. I told him I was straightening the bracket when the wrench slipped and sent me sprawling. He told me he heard a noise and found me picking up all the things that had fallen out of my shirt pocket.

I ended up with scraped elbows, sore hips, sore back, several sore pressure points from where the large gravel left their mark, and a bruised ego. Ouch!

But the bracket is straight.

My yesterday seemed to be very busy. I made stop after stop, burned off about a half tank of gas, but at days end I was asking myself where my day went.

I did meet Memama and Pepa after their coumadin (sp?) lab check. Mema was not having a very good day. She was extremely nauseous and her color was bad. I asked Pepa to go look at a truck with me and Memama never got out of the car, even when Pepa had to go into the truck shop to fill out a repair authorization at another location. I called last evening and Memama reported she was much better.

While I was with Pepa, he took a call informing him that Sam Jessup had died last night. Sam was an old timer from the defunct family business. Actually I guess he would fall into the class of Freddy's reclamation projects. Sam loved Freddy, and last year at the seasonal jobsite he talked to me on a few occasions about losing Freddy and every time, he teared up. It was hard on him, and hard on me. His work at the seasonal jobsite was very limited due to his emphysema and heart problems. Over the years, my "on the ground" employees had nicknamed Sam "Greybeard", for his facial hair. I can't recall exactly how old Sam was, but I do remember he wasn't as old as he looked. He had a slow demeanor, always wore suspenders, and was about like watching paint dry to watch him work. But, usually when it was time to be done or deliver a load, he would come through like a champ.

One funny story occurred when I was still at the defunct family business. Sam had made the transition from lease operator to company driver and I was having a hard time convincing him to fill out the appropriate paperwork. Finally I told him, no paperwork, no check. He relented, although grudgingly. Several months later after W-2's had been sent out I received a letter from the IRS saying his name and social security number did not match their records. We checked our records and our information was exactly what he had given us. I confirmed the info with the IRS and told Sam about the incident. He acted a little funny but I told him if the IRS requested a copy of his W-4, I had no choice but to send it to them and then the ball was in his court. Several years after the fact, he confessed to me that the number he had given me was not his own, but his father's (who had been deceased a long time).

At times Sam's and my relationship was contentious, but eventually I learned how to handle him.

I figure he has already looked Fred up at that big trucking company in the sky, looking for a load.

RIP, Sam Jessup. Tell Fred and TJ hello.

What to do, what to do? I have about exhausted all my errands. Currently I am waiting on faxes and proofs from stops I made yesterday. That may mean I spend the day in the office helping Krl.

I may go to Stephenville tonight with K.O.. They have a board meeting and he wanted me to go as an unbiased observer. Their association is young, not even two years old, and they have a board of nine people. Like most new entities, they have had their rough patches. Recently one of the board members came to the president of the association and asked him if he had considered "stepping down". The president has given very freely of his time and personal resources, but it seems this one board member along with one more board member constantly second guess him. Of course, when it is time for these board members to step up, they usually shy away. I don't know if I have ever seen one of them participate in staging one of their events, other than as a competitor.

They have basically agreed to a vote of confidence/no confidence. With an added twist, if the vote is for the president to step down, four more board members are prepared to do the same. If the vote is for the president to stay in office, the renegades will be asked to resign. Both sides have been lobbying the general membership.

What drama. Already I am seeing that if I go I need to take a nap!

Pepa has been trying to find a starter for his forklift. This was the first machine we had purchased when we began my seasonal work. It is a 1991 model. Several years after we had purchased it, it had run the full program. The big plant always got the best or newest machine, the little plant got the next newest, Coyonosa was the next stop with the farm being the final stop. The gin at Roscoe called, in pressing need of a forklift. I told them how to make the repairs to theirs, but they still wanted to borrow one of the company machines. Eusebio drove a machine the two miles to the plant and upon his arrival found they had taken my advice and were repairing the gin's machine. Jason arrived to pick up Eusebio and the manager told him thanks, but to take the machine back. It was cold and late in the evening so the manager offered the use of his trailer. In the course of several freak things happening in close sequence, in the two mile transit, the forklift became unchained, rolled to the back of the trailer taking all the weight from the rear wheels of Jason's pickup, causing the pickup to begin to swerve back and forth, final resulting in the forklift being catapulted from the trailer. When the dust settled, it was a mess! Torn up forklift and torn up fence! Luckily no one was hurt. And, thank goodness for insurance!

The machine was totalled out, but the farm bought the salvage back and Hag and crew rebuilt it. A forklift is not a necessity at the farm but after you have had one, you can hardly do without. During the course of the wreck and the rebuild, a very important tag with the model and serial number went missing. Search as I might I have not been able to find my records on this machine, and so far Pepa has not been able to outsource a starter from the after market. Pricing from the original equipment manufacturer has been from $700 to $1000. Holy mackerel! If I was to spend that kind of money for a starter, I would want it where everyone could see it, not tucked away under a hood.

And with that, I am going to bail!

Have a day!

FATHER, guide my day. YOU know what needs to be done and in what time frame. Take control. We lift up Sam's family for YOUR comfort and care.