my careless contagion

Warning! This is a long post but worth it. Before I begin, let me say a few words. No one knows who wrote this. I will explain what it means to me at the end.  Judge Gently  Pray don't find fault with the man who limps or stumbles along the road, unless you have worn the shoes he wears, or struggled beneath his load, there may be tacks in his shoes that hurt, though hidden away from view, or the burden he bears, placed on your back, might cause you to stumble, too. Don't sneer at the man who's down today, unless you have felt the blow that caused his fall or felt the shame that only the fallen know. You may be strong; but still the blows that were his, if dealt to you in the selfsame way, at the selfsame time, might cause you to stagger, too. Don't be too harsh with the man who sins, or pelt him with word or stone, unless you are sure, yea doubly sure, that you have no sins of your own; for you know, perhaps if the tempter's voice should whisper as softly to you as ...

The food here has more variety. And all the restaurants are pretty good, as far as I can tell. Asian. Mexican. Whatever you want. There is even an Indian restaurant down the road. And, if you want to go further, there are shops! Grocery stores that stock Asian, Indian, and Mexican food. I used to go to Lincoln when I was in high school, and I always perused the Asian stores on O Street. I love those places, though I'm less adventurous now. One time I bought some shrimp thinking I would cook them, but then the shopkeepers asked where I was going fishing with the shrimp. So, I guess most bought shrimp as bait. So I went fishing. It was terrible bait. Should have eaten it. Or maybe the fish knew something I didn't.   I don't know why, but people here like to honk. Like, hey, we are all driving as safely as we can. Chill the heck out. You live in Kearney, Nebraska, not New York. Trust me, you have nowhere to go. The old lady you're honking at is now flustered and will proba...

Hey, welcome back. This post makes some generalizations  (which is always fun and probably wrong)  about my new town, Kearney, Nebraska. This may be part one of a multi-part series. Or not.  It is interesting to move to a new place because you take your old assumptions and past experiences with you. You apply those to the new place. Your mind is constantly comparing and contrasting. For a while. And then you are home and you like your new place (and I do like my new place). In fact, I haven't wanted to go back from whence I came. When I left, I took a short hike by myself as I often did. It was cold, as I recall, and two gray jays (also known as camp robbers) were keeping a close eye on me, swooping from one tree to another and following me along the trail. As I reached the end of the trail, I knew it would likely be my last time hiking there. I told those watchful jays that I likely wouldn't be back so to "take care of the place." And that was it.  These are not jud...

What's this, I made another trip to Nebraska? Yes. It was supposed to be a short trip (I didn't even take photos), just me seeing someone about a job and trying to find a place to live. I later changed my mind and invited my ex to come down also if she could make appointments for whatever. She did, and it was a good idea. Oh, and I got to see Cindy.  I don't know how much I can write in the coming days. Things are moving quickly. I have several possibilities for jobs, even invitations to "come try it out and see if you like it." My ex had a couple of interviews for three positions. I am consistently impressed by the people in Nebraska. They are not all kind and genuine, I know, but many are. Whereas in South Dakota if I had a good interaction with a person, I would consider it rare and it would make my day, in Nebraska, it seems such interactions are common.  Oh, and Kate and I put in an application for a place to live: a nice, newly-renovated home on wheels. What...