Got rid of the vanity yesterday. One more piece of clutter, gone! It is almost unfathomable to me, how I will manage to get rid of all my stuff and live small. My mother was a pack rat, and became what you might call a hoarder in her later years. She was actually brought to tears when Melissa cleaned her bathroom. Why? Because Melissa THREW AWAY dozens of empty bottles of shampoo. By 'empty' I mean that there was less than one shampoo left in it, and it would require rinsing to get it out. Apparently, my mom thought she was going to get around to using them someday. The same way with her newspapers. She used to always read the sports and obituaries. But then she got behind on it, so she saved the papers, for when she 'had time' to go through them. Before we knew it, half the garage was stacked up with newspapers, and she wouldn't allow them to be thrown out, because she hadn't read them yet. At one point, we convinced her to let us go through and save all the sports and local pages, while recycling the rest. There were several years worth, and some had mildew on them, but we did it. Later, when she got too sick to notice anymore, we threw them all in the recycle bin. We went through her closets, and we had to sneak out the threadbare clothes from the 1950's so she wouldn't be upset. We would buy her new outfits for her birthday and christmas, and she would wear them, but she was sure there was still some use left in her old things. We did give them away to charity, mostly. But some were so bad that the trash can was the only place for them.
I may have inherited this tendancy from my mom. I keep things because I'm sure as soon as I throw them out I'm going to want them. As soon as I throw away that single sock, the match will turn up. Sometimes it is good to save things, but it gets out of hand when you've saved so much that you can't find what you need when you need it. Then you end up buying another one anyway, and that gets saved, too. The house becomes like an archaeological dig, with each layer you encounter representing an earlier and earlier era. I want to get rid of all those layers! But when I begin, I find it easy to get bogged down. I come across things that remind me of an earlier time, and I begin to reminisce and set things aside, because I don't want to throw away memories.
I'm doing it, though. Slowly, I am pulling out things I don't use anymore and selling them, or giving them away. Or even throwing them away. Even memorabilia. I gave away years worth of Padre souvenirs that my mother had collected by going to every Padre home game. I kept them for a while after she died, because I couldn't bear to get rid of them, but as time passes, it gets easier. I still have a huge bag of Padre T-shirts in one of the kitchen cupboards. It's going to the Goodwill, I swear. Along with the bowling shoes that don't fit, and the torn bowling bag with a bowling ball that belongs to someone else. Who? I can't remember. I have huge box of recipes torn from the newspaper and off box labels that I swore I was going to copy into a notebook sometime. And honestly, I hate cooking. And I can find any recipe I want online, anyway. Every single year I make my succotash by googling 'baked succotash' because I cannot find the recipe in the recipe box. And every year I print out a new copy, and the next year I cannot find it! And yet I save the box. Writing this down makes me realize how dumb that is. It's going out!
And the piano! How will I ever get rid of the old upright grand piano taking up space in my living room? It's not in great shape. It's incredibly heavy, and out of tune. I've advertised it several times. It's on Craigslist right now. For $75. Truth is, I'd give it away, but it costs money to move it, and I'm afraid I may have to pay to get rid of it! It seems unthinkable to take it to the dump. It's a musical instrument! Please, someone, take my piano! I've had it since I was a little girl, and I want it to go to a good home where it will be loved! Is that too much to ask? I think that's how I'll word the next Craigslist ad.

Tiny Houses

I haven't posted on my blog for a long, long time. Seems I lost interest in telling bus stories. Now I have a new interest. Tiny Houses. Specifically, I want to build a tiny house on a trailer, modeled after the ones made by The Tumbleweed Tiny House Co. You can look them up online.
My kids both think I'm crazy. Other people probably do, too. I don't care. This is my dream. I am turning 53 this year. April will be going off to college in a year and a half. Ramona is 25. I will not need a 4 bedroom house anymore!
The first problem is, I have accumulated a whole lot of stuff over the years, and I am loathe to get rid of anything. But I am starting. I sold the spa, which we never used. I took a load of junk to the dump. I have the piano and the vanity on Craigslist. I cleaned out the closets of extra jackets and other warm clothing and gave them to the homeless this winter. Next, I need to attack the books. I have WAY too many books. Books I've read, books I haven't read. Books I want to read, and books I'll never read. Fiction, non-fiction, schoolbooks, classics, trashy romances, science fiction, historical novels, encyclopedias. Total worth? Probably close to zero. It's HARD to get rid of books! I love them! And I will certainly save a few, expecially the ones in the category of 'books I want to read'. Maybe a few of the classics, too.
The next problem is, no money! This, I hope, will improve. When April goes away to college, I plan to move into the back house, and rent this front one. That will bring in a good amount. Plus, it will solve problem number three, which is, where to build it? I can use the big patio back there! It's perfect!
So, for now, since I can't start yet, the plan is to downsize, downsize, downsize! Also, I am designing. The house I have planned will be 16' x 7' on the inside. The trailer itself will be 8 and a half feet wide, including the wheels, and about 21 feet long, including the hitch. I've already spent at least 100 hours graphing out floorplans. I want a bathtub, albeit a small one, and I have discovered them online disguised as koi tubs. I want a gravity fed plumbing system. I want solar panels. I want to use a marine cooler instead of a refrigerator, and a propane stove and heater. In short, I want it totally self contained, but also able to draw power from the grid, and hook up to plumbing and sewer if I choose. I want an octagonal casement window in my loft. I found one online for $500 that I am drooling over. It has a stained glass rose in the middle.
When I'm ready to retire, the plan is to buy an older Suburban to pull it with, and travel North America. I want to visit my Aunt in Nipomo, April's Grandma and Uncles in Oregon, other famiy in Washington, Oregon, and Missouri. I want to go see Tatiana on her farm in Colorado. I want to go to Alaska via Canada (the only way you CAN get there by land...) I want to go back to Yellowstone and Thermopolis Wyoming, Yosemite, and the Grand Canyon. I want to see the Northeastern states, and go down South to New Orleans. I might even venture into Mexico, if it looks calm enough.
This is what I want to do. My dream was always to have a view from my front window. This will give me not just one view, but many, many views. A different one every day, if I want. As far as building it myself goes...well, I plan to attend a workshop this summer on the subject. I also plan to volunteer for Habitat For Humanity, as a way to learn what's involved in house building. That's another thing I can add to the list of 'Things I can do right now.' And it will help others at the same time.
So, from now on, this is what my blog will probably be about. I may still throw in a bus story now and then. It still can be pretty interesting out there.

Yard Sale

Today is Sunday, my second day off. Saturday-Sunday are nice days to have off, especially if you want to have a yard sale. I live on a street that has an exit off the freeway, so I get plenty of cars going by. I needed some extra money, so I decided to drag stuff out into my yard and have a sale! I had a TV-DVD combo (DVD player didn't work)that was sold for $15 as soon as I got it outside on Saturday morning. Today I sold a dresser-bookcase combo for $65. Not counting those two things, I took in about $20. I still could make something more, since I'm not going to drag the loveseat or the bookcase-bed back into the house. They will either get sold, or they will get given away. It was quite a bit of work to do, getting all that stuff out there, for just $100. But, on the other hand, I spent a good portion of both days relaxing with a book in the shade in the front yard. I even took a nap.
Working my day off makes me lots more money. Overtime at my job is over $30 an hour, and I am guaranteed at least 5 hours and 20 minutes if I come in and work at all. So why have a yard sale? Why not just put in for day-off work and donate everything I don't want or need to charity? Well, for one thing, day-off work has gotten more sporadic lately. Used to be, you could put in a slip, and they would use you, pretty much guaranteed. We used to provide service to the Charger games, too, which was fun, and you got to see the game, or most of it, anyway. We actually used to provide service to the Padre games, too. But we haven't done that for a long time. Not since they moved to Petco Park. Seems like all the fun and easy work is going away, and what's left is the long, hard, grueling routes. I guess, making $21-something an hour, and over $30 an hour on overtime, I should't complain about how hard the work is.
Last weekend I did work my day off on Sunday. They gave me a route 7, going down University, for 8 and a half hours. Problem was, that day I pulled a muscle in my back unhooking a wheelchair, and had to do light duty for two days. They only pay you 85% of your pay on light duty, and NO overtime. Plus, I had missed a day of work the last Wednesday because I overslept, and then they exercised their option of letting me stay home with no pay for that day. This Friday I'll find out if I actually came out even after the whole thing, or not.
Anyway, the yard sale might have been hard on my back, too, but I wore a back support for the heavy lifting, and I seem to be all right. The yard sale was also easier on my nerves than driving a bus would have been. Plus, I was at HOME. There is something to be said for being at home. I picked up the house a little, and got my laundry done.
Tomorrow, back in the saddle again. I'm grateful, really grateful, that I have a decent job. It can be grueling, boring, maddening, even occasionally dangerous. But I see people on the street corners with signs asking for help, and I know things could be a lot worse. I have a home to go to when I'm done. I have a yard to have a sale in. I have stuff to get rid of. I have people (and animals) who love me and want my attention. I have a computer! I may have a weak back, broken toes, torn up toenails and fingernails, and god only knows what's next. But life is good.

Haven't posted anything for a long time. It's not that I ran out of bus stories. I just got tired of telling them, I guess. I could talk about the old drunk man in the wheelchair who fell over backwards on his head. That was painful to watch! He was fine, except for scraping the top of his head. I guess all the alcohol limbered him up for the fall. They took him away in an ambulance, anyway. At taxpayer expense... Not that I begrudge him that. I'd want them to take ME if I needed it, even if I couldn't pay.
Another thing I could talk about. The time when the Border Patrol boarded my bus on Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve, about 5:30 at night, on a northbound 34, just around Nautilus and La Jolla Bl., here they came. One by the back door to get the would be escapees, and one coming in the front and asking anyone who looked foreign to show papers. They took a few people away with them, mostly women. Women heading home from work on Christmas Eve. Women whose families were expecting them home any minute to start celebrating the Holiday. Now, I am not religious. But Christmas is much more than a religious Holiday. It's a traditional time for families to be together and exchange gifts, eat a special meal, stuff like that. I'm guessing a few of those border patrol agents WERE religious, and probably thought they were doing the right thing. I can only shake my head at that. Where is the compassion, the love that Jesus supposedly talked about? It still makes me mad to think about it, and this was at least 15 years ago!
A lot of people are worrying about illegal immigration these days. I spent the last two days on light duty, riding buses and counting people who got on and off buses that service National City, Chula Vista, San Ysidro, Imperial Beach, and Coronado. Buses full of Mexicans going to and from work. Illegal? Who knows. Probably some of them. Taking our jobs? I doubt it. Unless you are up for cleaning rich people's houses in Coronado Cays. Using our services without paying into the system? Maybe, some. But no more than that old drunk in the wheelchair. They're PEOPLE, people! At least let them enjoy Christmas with their families before you go dragging them back across the border. That's all for tonight. I need to help April with her Spanish homework. ;-}

Today my mind was boggled by a man who wouldn't move his feet. He was sitting in the first sideways-facing seat, his feet sticking out into the aisle about a foot. There was a woman in a wheelchair trying to exit the bus, and his feet stayed right where they were. "Watch your feet, sir", I said, expecting the usual, almost reflexive response of the feet being pulled back. "My feet are okay", said the man, not moving them at all. "Your feet are in her way" I said. "I don't think so" came the calm reply. I want to ask him if there was something wrong with his feet. I wanted to push is feet back myself. I wanted to say that I had never heard of anything so rude in my life! I wanted to call him a jackass. I did none of the above. I just waited, while the woman squeezed her wheelchair by and went down the ramp. Then I put the ramp back in and went on my merry way. Then a friendly aquaintance named Paul got on the bus, and we struck up a conversation. Paul was standing near the front of the bus while we exchanged how-do-you-do's. Suddenly the man pointed to, and read aloud the sign up front that says "Information gladly given, but saftely prohibits talking to the bus driver while the bus is in motion." I moved my lips in the shape of a couple of choice words, one of which was the word I hadn't called him earlier. But no sound came out of my mouth. Paul was conveniently blocking anyone else who might see me in the mirror. I laughed and asked Paul if he could read lips. He said, yes, he could. He only went a few more stops, and then we exchanged goodbyes. The other man was still there. When he got off the bus, I said "Thank you, have a nice day". I didn't mean it, but I said it. He pointed again at the sign and told me not to forget to report myself for having a conversation while driving the bus. "Thank you, have a nice day" I repeated. So he left. It's a crazy world.

"Illegals"

I hear a lot of converstions on the bus. Sometimes I want to join in, but it's none of my business. They're usually too far away, and anyway, I probably shouldn't be expressing my personal political opinions while I'm representing San Diego Transit. But it really annoys me when I hear people use faulty arguments to prove their point, right or wrong. One 'argument' I've heard recently is this: "What part of illegal don't you underSTAND?" Now, that's not really an argument, it's a put-down. I suppose they think they are being clever. The implication (if it were aimed at me) is that I would realize you were right if I weren't so stupid. But since this is my forum, and I can say what I want, I'll tell you which part I don't understand. I don't understand the part where you tell 15 million people living in this country to just disappear! You're 'illegal' so just go away. Where? Back home? What makes you think they have a home in Mexico? What I'd like to say back to them is, "What part of 15 million don't YOU understand?" What you don't seem to understand is that most of those 15 million are working. A good number are children in school who've never known any other home but the United States. Their little brothers and sisters are American citizens, having had the good fortune to be born in this country. Their whole family is here! Send them HOME? They ARE home!
I'm not saying there isn't a problem. I'm just saying these people are not the villains in this story. They are our victims, just people trying to survive. Our victims, because we are happy to have the fruits of their labor (forgive the pun). We actually think we are entitled to prices kept low by an endless supply of cheap labor. People have a funny way of wanting to move up in the world; to do better for themselves and their families. There is always pressure to find new sources of cheap labor if you can't keep the underclass down.
We used to solve this problem by keeping slaves. Slaves were our 'permanent' underclass. Many ran away, and were punished cruelly by law if they were caught. After all, running away was illegal! And what part of illegal don't you understand? But slavery turned out to be more expensive and less workable than we thought, and we had to end it. It wasn't economically feasible, not with slaves getting sick, dying, refusing to work hard, running away, being incapacitated by beatings, etc. And there was always a chance of revolt, which was not only expensive. but dangerous. So we ended slavery, but still tried to keep those Black people as our permanent underclass. We needed them to do the farm work and the cleaning, cooking, and such. We needed an oversupply, so we wouldn't have to pay them too much. But they didn't want to stay in 'their place'. As human beings do, they moved onward and upward, in spite of enormous pressure to stay down.
So who fills that demand now? Who picks the produce, cleans our houses, our pools, mows our lawns, cooks for us? You got it! Our new 'permanent' underclass! We've learned that slavery isn't feasible, and anyway, it's not fashionable anymore. But we still need a way to keep them from moving up in the world and abandoning the cheap labor jobs we so desparatley need them for. How? By making sure they stay invisible. They still manage to find a way to move up the ladder, though. They find ways to GET legal. They buy forged papers, they send their children to school. They even have the audacity to bring little American Citizens into the world, people who, when they grow up, aren't going to be satisfied with menial labor. They won't be stuck doing it, either, as long as they get an education. But that's okay, because there are always more coming across the border.
So what's the solution? I don't know. The president is talking about a 'guest worker' program, where people come here to do the farm labor and then go home. Right. And Santa Claus comes down the chimney and leaves presents under the tree every Christmas. It's time we realized that there is no such thing as a 'permanent underclass'. Maybe we could train chimpanzees to do the work, and they wouldn't demand equal rights. Maybe we should build robots to do the work, and just pay people to buy the stuff that is produced. This sounds farfetched, I know. The point is, I don't have a solution, and I'm not even sure there is one. One thing is for sure, though. You won't find a solution if you can't even identify the problem. Blaming the Mexicans for coming here to take jobs we offer them and want them to do is ridiculous. Expecting human beings to work forever without any chance to move up, at least for their children if not for themselves, is just plain denial of human nature. That's my take on the situation. Thanks for listening.

It always bugs me that fundamentalists think there would be no morality, and life would have no meaning without a belief in god. They honestly believe that morality was delivered to Moses on the mountaintop. Before that, I guess, people were just running around doing anything they wanted, because they didn't know it was wrong to lie, cheat, steal, kill, or covet your neighbor's wife. People from other cultures who coexisted with the Jews obviously had no moral code, either, and their lives had no meaning at all. I guess that's why god want the Jews to kill every last one of the men when they invaded their land, and take the women and children as their slaves. When they didn't do this properly, god punished them! (I should provide a refernce here, but I am to lazy to go look it up. Maybe one of my followers can help)
I think the ten commandments encoded morality as it had developed up to that time. People developed this themselves over time, by trial and error. Conscience evolved as our societies did. People who want to stop the clock at the time the ten commandments were written down deny that our morality and conscience could possibly evolve over time. So what was wrong then (read:homosexuality) is wrong now. And what was right then (read: slavery, genocide, polygyny) is still right today. Oh, wait...
As far as the meaning of life goes, I don't think life has any meaning in and of itself. Saying life has some inherent meaning is like saying that the sounds of our language have inherent meaning. They don't. But in context, in a society that has assigned meaning to the sounds and gestures, it means a whole lot. Live is like that, too. Your life means nothing to the earth. The earth was here before you and will go on after you are gone. The earth may very well swallow you up in a gigantic sinkhole tomorrow, and it wouldn't be anything personal. The stars in the heavens don't give a hoot for your life. Neither do the comets and asteroids which bombard us from time to time. But in context, from you point of view, and from the point of view of others whom you affect, it means a whole lot. What you leave behind has meaning too, as long as there is someone who understands. In a few thousand years, no one will understand the language we use today. There may be some who study ancient languages who can decipher it. Society will be so different from what it is like now, that they may not have the context to truly understand the way we thought, and why we did the things we did. Maybe they'll judge us by their own standards and find us lacking. Maybe there will be sects who look back at our moral code and deplore the morals of their own society! Who knows? It's happened before!