Out

May 23, 2012

 

I mark days that I go out of the house during a year with orange road construction barrels in my mind. With each passing year, I go out less. I have figured that I leave the house about thirty days a year.  I go to the doctor’s office, the barber shop,  the mall, the technical college, the book festival, the Capitol for disabled day and the writer’s conference.  April is one month that I do get out of the house with the writer’s conference and seeing my best friend Amber when she brings her forensic team to Madison to compete at the university.  October is the book festival when I try to sell my books.  The rest of the year I am at home writing or watching sports.  I don’t see my family much any more.  Life moves on. 

 

Amber,

I look forward to seeing you every April at the mall.  Those two hours are precious to me.  I love you.  Steve

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My life is like a jelly donut.  The first several bites of a jelly donut are dry sugary dough without any filling.  I sometimes go without going anyplace or seeing anyone for weeks at a time.  When eating a jelly donut you eventually end up with a   big glob of jelly hanging by a thread. You take the enormous bite of sweet jelly into your mouth before it falls.  You almost gag on the big bite of jelly.  It seems like everything happens all at once.  I go out and I see friends in a short   period of time.  I hate that.  Then I have to go back to eating the dry sugary dough bites.  That’s a writer’s life.

Happy Mother’s Day

May 8, 2012

It’s Mother’s Day.  Mothers of adult  physically disabled children don’t get a vacation or a day off.  The last time my mother had a vacation was 1974. That’s more than thirty years ago.  Imagine that.  Most care workers are lazy.  Care attendants will take off a day when they feel like it.  If something happens in a care worker’s life weather it is an illness or a personal reason the client’s life is disrupted.  But mothers of adult   physically disabled children never complain or ask for much.  They just want their children to be happy and productive people in the world.  They are amazing dedicated mothers whose work  often goes unrecognized.  Where would I be without my mother?

Spruce Knoll

May 8, 2012

The drooling country boy sat in his manual wheelchair on the edge of the grassy knoll watching very big tractors disk and  plant.  He sat there for hours watching tractors go back and forth.  The smell of cow manure and   diesel fumes engulfed the air. Off in the distance sits a flatbed truck with   a red bull’s-eye tank with bags of corn seed.  An old John Deere tractor hitched to a hay wagon sat on a grassy lane.  The country boy smiled enjoying himself.  Good memories of my farm.  Spruce Knoll.

The Future …

May 8, 2012

    I was talking to my careworker about the future.  She said that when I move into a group home, I will have to get a job to pay for it.  I’m considered unemployable.  People won’t hire or pay me.  I used to want a job, but I gave up on the idea.  I became a full time writer.  Writing is my life.  I can’t imagine not writing.  My books don’t sell well, but I try.  The system doesn’t work.  I get frustrated with the system.  All I need is a chance.  I will keep at it. 

The Future …

May 8, 2012

    I was talking to my careworker about the future.  She said that when I move into a group home, I will have to get a job to pay for it.  I’m considered unemployable.  People won’t hire or pay me.  I used to want a job, but I gave up on the idea.  I became a full time writer.  Writing is my life.  I can’t imagine not writing.  My books don’t sell well, but I try.  The system doesn’t work.  I get frustrated with the system.  All I need is a chance.  I will keep at it.