Saturday, June 06, 2015

Dawned partly foggy, warmed in a hurry. Ground is drying out nicely, you can almost walk around the water trough without rubber boots.

I spent most of the morning driving about taking pictures. And spent the next few hours eating pizza (for my nerves) and trying to download the pictures to file on the computer. I’m still trying to find out where I’m going wrong. I have multiple copies of the pictures in the same file. And it isn’t the file I was aiming toward.

Which is all well and fine, I suppose, as I can re-name and manipulate all when I get in on the computer. The Cannon software is not intuitive for me.

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That building, despite its façade, is about as old as my non-existence of dreams of becoming a millionaire. It’s old. The inside is smelly, a little wet, to be safe the whole thing needs pointing and the termite eaten wood needs ripping out.

You cann’t see it well; but across the white space above the awning in pink (faded red) Senior Citizens Center. The Seniors are one of the power blocks in the village, and about every city in the US has such a thing. The old folks, for lack of better things to do, need a place to gather and play – whether it is cards or just socialize.

The building rests on the standard twenty-five foot city lot on the villages main drag.

Now, right along side of it is this:

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This is the new Senior Citizens Center.

It is on four city sized lots. I mention that because just to left of the entry door, up there, back before this building was built, there was a large soft brick building. An old ware house that was attendant to the RR, defunct, tracks taken away.

Inside that old ware house, hollowed out as it was, a man placed a trailer house. He lived in the trailer house for almost a year. He made a couple of mistakes while he was living there.

He made friends (so he thought) with my near neighbor, and he sold drugs – which was why near neighbor be-friended him. Kind of like know thy competitor thing, I guess.

The man didn’t make a third mistake. After near neighbor dropped the dime on the man he was arrested in the public square else where and received twelve year for dealing. The property was sold off.

The Seniors got it.

Now. Once they had it, they got the prison system to send them some labor and they got volunteers for equipment and, for the price of feeding the prisoners each day, they had constructed the New Senior Center.

The prisoners did say, while working on the project and eating their noon meal, that the food was worth the labor. Real good.

They didn’t mention not having to worry about supervision, being out of the cells and having pretty ladies walk by that they could follow with their eyes. And speak with.

It is a nice building. And New.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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