Time

Time is a fascinating attribute of life. We often consider it an unchanging master. A thing that is a constant. We set appointments by it; we go to bed and arise to it. We often eat according to it. Our entertainment marches to its tick. Yet it does change. We have just, in most states, gone back to standard time. As we move around the world, we travel through different time zones.
Time in small town America is a totally different beast, and in our neck of the hill country it is almost non existent. These people have their own sense of it, and this grandma from the Swamp land just can’t find the key.

Now, I would believe that perhaps the intuitive part of my brain has perhaps rusted from the thirty odd years it has been sitting here in Swampland, but even as a yong thing living in the Alamo City, which is much closer to the Hill Country, time seemed to be pretty much in keeping with other places in the world. I feel better when my sister in law, who lives in the Capital City, also just doesn’t grasp "Little Community Hill Country" time. It is a beast of it’s own.

We are having our floors replaced with hard surfaces. The tile that was to cover the kitchen, eating area, bathrooms and utility room is in. Other than not allowing the dishwasher to assume it’s dedicated niche in the kitchen cabinet because the floor is an inch higher than it was, and the vertical blinds needing to be moved higher, the tile is beautiful.

It was in the last time we were there. Not too bad since it only took a month from the time we were told the materials had arrived. After all, we only contracted the job in July.
I was expecting great things now that the dam had opened. There would be, surely, an outpouring of work to complete the job. As we pulled up to the door Friday evening, I could tell that nothing had been moved since we were last there. When we opened the door and walked around to the living room, we saw the carpet was still there, with its moat around the tile. Absolutely nothing had been done.

Now this time warp also causes communication glitches. When messages are left for someone, they must evaporate because there is never a call back. And this time warp also must be hard on people’s health. Mr Floor Man at the store never returns calls, and is always out sick. Strange doings in this time warp. It may be just as well that we only spent a few days at a time in these places.

We made an unexpected visit to the store. We met the installer in person. He was there to pick up the laminate. He said he will begin at 5:30 this morning. I wonder what time that it here?

Oh, by the way, the same general company is contracted to build our barn. They were going to begin in September, after the cows were off. Would you like to guess how far the barn has progressed?