The More Things Change

The More Things Change

I grew up in the country and, after a brief stint in trailer park hell my wife and I settled into a small home in an aging subdivision in Franklin. It was a nice, quite subdivision with lots of nice folks. But it was still a subdivision in town. I was a country boy who needed to be in the country. The town just wasn’t for me. I needed outside, fresh air, a big backyard.
In 2001, the dream came true. I bought six acres from father and built a house in the country. I have four acres of woods and a two-acre yard. I was back home. A little over ten years after my wife and I married and I moved out of the country, I was back home with all the farmland, fresh air, and country road to enjoy that any man short of Daniel Boone would ever need.
As a famous man once said, I told you that story to tell you this story.
In the mid-nineties in that small house in Franklin, I found myself alone one Sunday afternoon. Barry Sanders and the Detroit Lions were on television. If you are a football fan, you know of the feats of Barry Sanders and what a thrill it was for him to play the game of football. There was really no other reason to have the Detroit Lions on the television at all. Just Barry Sanders.
So there I was in the mid nineties in the house alone, my wife having gone off to take my young son to visit her mother. I sat there; with the television muted, banging out some story on a manual typewriter my grandfather had given my mother as a college present in the sixties. I was semi watching the game, but mostly whatever the story was inside of me at the time, had to come out. So, I sat there in the living room, with a piece of plywood across the top of a pair of trashcans (my desk) pounding the keyboards with the game on out of the corner of my eye.
Ah, but surely, once I made my way to the country, with all that fresh air and sunshine, my Sunday’s would be different, right?
So here I am, January 2011, and my wife has gone off to visit her mother again, leaving me alone with my ten-year old daughter. She is off in her room watching television. My oldest son – the same small child my wife took to visit her mother all those years ago – is on schedule to graduate from high school this spring.
I am looking out the backdoor into last half of my two-acre yard (the sun surely is pretty today), as I sit at a card table, with the laptop, composing this blog and rewriting a short story I recently completed.
Oh yeah, the NFC Championship game in on with the sound muted.

Just incredible, really.

Thanks for listening.

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About timkeen40

When I was seven, I opened one of those little Golden Books (Lassie) and started copying the words down on paper and it set my soul on fire. I have been writing ever since. I don't know where this is going but I invite you along on the journey.
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18 Responses to The More Things Change

  1. nrhatch says:

    I enjoyed this, Tim
    “Wherever you go, there you are.” 🙂

    Enjoy the game!

  2. Bodhirose says:

    This is wonderful, Tim–I enjoyed it. I’m so happy your dream was fulfilled to return to the country. Well, some things have changed–but some have remained very similar. That’s life!

  3. lesliepaints says:

    Aaaah! It is not so much what you do with the country other than to love it and care for it. Some people need that space, that air, that view. I don’t know where your Franklin is but I pictured it as Franklin, Indiana as it fits my need while reading your story. I like these snippets of your writing experiences because I get a better picture of you and a sense of the man your stories come from. Don’t stop writing!

    • timkeen40 says:

      Leslie,
      You know I love it when you and others chime in. I will not stop writing as long as the brain and fingers keep working. I don’t want to ruin your ideas of where Franklin is, so I won’t. Just please keep reading.

      Tim

  4. I love to blog with football in the background. :0)

  5. suzicate says:

    Sounds like a wonderful place to be in life and physically as well!

  6. Tammy McLeod says:

    Perfectly appropriate title Tim – I can see you sitting there.

    • timkeen40 says:

      Tammy,
      Thanks as always.
      No matter where I sit, it is the little places between my ears that dictate my life. The stories and ideas that come out of there make me who I am.

      Tim

  7. I like the read how life is passing by and you chose to mute it in order to just BE…you are a part of it but still detached and content. What a feeling! I am envious 😦
    ENJOY!!!! 🙂

  8. Loved this, loved learning more about you.
    Did you know my career began as an associate editor of Harrowsmith Country Life Magazine–a magazine about country living, only, we worked on it in Montreal North (rough part of the city!) and I was a twenty-something more into going to downtown Irish pubs than country living. Ironically, some 10 years later I live in the country, read that magazine often! and have my own business. Ironically Lucky. Still love irish pubs, and big on pressing mute.

    • timkeen40 says:

      Heather,
      I do love the country, but I have to admit, I never met an Irish pub I didn’t like…or a German one…or…you get the point.

      Hey, thanks for stopping by. It is always great to hear from you.

  9. Life moves in circles. This is a wonderful story because it demonstrates the rhythm of life … and because you got your house. That’s wonderful.

    Happy days …
    I blog with old movies in the background.

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