I won't bore you with the long story of the boss's TV-over-the-Internet not working and setting up a house call from the cable company and the Godawful mess that our house
instead let's fast forward to me finding a Pioneer seed advertising tote bag under the green desk while clearing a path to the modem and router.
'What the heck is this?' I thought.
Oh, my. It's the bag that the state police investigator gleaned from our poor wrecked car when the boss had his terrible accident. The insurance company never even let us see it again......Those were bad times and the bag just got stuffed away without anyone ever looking through it.
Broken binoculars. Little bits of a small box of tackle Alan kept in the car so we could fish if we happened upon a good spot.
Odds. Ends. Maps, which I just stashed in the current car for our upcoming trip. (The B**ch in the Box doesn't always work after all. Sometimes there's no signal.)
And an inch high stack of CDs. I almost pitched them. They were pretty battered and tired looking.
Then I noticed the label on one. Barn Music.
Barn Music 2. OMG, the CD's we used to play in the barn when we were milking cows. We built them to suit everyone. Two songs for this person. Two songs for that one.
From Todd Fritsch to Jimmy Buffet to Trent Tomlinson and everything Emerson Drive had recorded up to that time. The Roosters. Chris LeDoux. Garth. The Grateful Dead, Craig Morgan,. Hours and hours worth.
Barn Music 2 is playing right now and every third song gives me cold chills and takes me back to the crazy fun we had milking back in the day. The barn blackboards where we strove to outdo each other with crazy drawings. Singing along. Some better than others.
The flashbacks just keep coming. Liz is having the same experience. It's like being in the barn again. With the cows and the kids all there. Those days are gone forever, and I try not to ever look back because....well....just because.
I sure am enjoying these CDs though.
Bittersweet.
Beautiful.
Heartbreaking and wonderful all at the same time.