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Friday, December 02, 2005

Morning folks. I don't think it was me, but someone has angered the weather Gods because we're getting another dump of snow. Don't they realize that White Rock is the Riviera of Canada and that we're all a bunch of retired weenies. Hope they don't read this, but between you and I, I love it! Just wish it was cold enough to stay a while and not turn to slush within hours.

I must be a little weird (oh really?) because the best times I had truckin' the Alaska Highway were during the winter. There was just something so peaceful about it. I can remember running hard all day, finally stopping to sleep, setting the throttle so that the engine was pulsing regularly, going to the bunk and looking out at the snowflakes gently falling, and falling to sleep at complete peace with the world. I was where I belonged. All by myself at the top of a mountain in my beloved Yukon, and please excuse this, but for me it was almost like being back in Mother's womb. I know it sounds corny, but those are the memories I cherish.

I realize that it's not healthy to live in the past, but God I miss those days. I'd gladly trade all the trappings I have today for one more kick at the can. Like most people I'm often asked what I would do if given the chance to do it all over again. For me the answer is a no-brainer, the exact same thing. We are all products of our environment, and I would not be the person I am today without having lived that life. Opinions may vary on what kind of person that is, but the opinion that counts is mine, and I'm satisfied that I did my best.

Don't know how I got from a mention of a little snow to that outburst, but I guess that's the beauty of having your own blog, you can talk about whatever you want. Because so many of you drop by I have to assume my nattering is not offending anyone, but boring could be another matter. Oh well, it's a great therapeutic outlet for me, and I do so appreciate all of you!

Stop by later if you can, I've got a great picture of my grandson Bobby landing a 12 pound salmon. The look on his face says it all. If you can't make it see you tomorrow with a few chuckles and on Sunday with another poem. Now, go forth and multiply, or at least practice.


Trucker Bob Image hosting by Photobucket blogged at 3:28 AM

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