Listeme

There was this guy who drove an ice truck.  I don't know his name.  I imagine him sometimes.  I think about one particular morning he woke up to go to work.  His wife probably made him breakfast.  Those were the times, after all.  He dressed and headed out to make his rounds. This day I'm thinking about, I don't know his specific route or really many specifics at all.  What color was the truck?  How many stops did he make?  Was he early?  Late?  I do know one stop he made.  It was in front of a little house in Lewiston, Maine, in one of the poorer parts of town.  A family lived there.  A mother, a father, four children.  Norton, Gloria, Dicky, Fred.  It was Fred's first birthday. Dicky, almost four years old, was a daredevil.  He scrambled up onto the ice truck – to snatch chips of ice, I guess.  The driver didn't see him.  So when he backed up, he didn't know that Dicky lurched and f...

I left for Odyssey with such naïve thoughts .  "I'll update the blog every day."  Haha.  "I'll visit friends and family in my spare time.  I'll make more flashcards and be ready for Nationals."  Even the gods are laughing at my silliness.  Heck, even small forest creatures are laughing. That's the long way of saying Odyssey was time-consuming.  And it was far more than that.  Mind-consuming, soul-consuming.  Several of the speakers commented that post-workshop divorce rates are a little higher than the norm (they were speaking about other workshops as well, not specifically Odyssey), and I think it has nothing to do with new – what's the word? – alliances and everything to do with this great feeling of change.  Put people in a difficult and alien environment, away from their crutches and helpmates and best friends, and what comes out at the other end is change. Two days post-Odyssey, I don't know what that change is for me.  I...