|The shortest route between two points, is not always the easiest.|
When I got out of hospital, the "rope" company hired me back as a machine operator - not overly heavy work, on the night shift. Why there was a night shift tells you how many people were doing Macrame, although they also sold to "factories" that used the stuff.
On the home front: In August the whole thing collapsed, I won't go into detail because a lot of people would be embarrassed. We dissolved the "thing", I went to the Greyhound Station and bought a one price for anywhere type of ticket, and after I was sober enough they let me on a bus. I made it to Spokane and drank during the lay-over and had to wait for the next bus. Do I need to tell you why? I was "left behind" in Nebraska, Ohio, New York state, and Boston, it was a trip that turned out to be a little longer than planned.
The first night back in Maine (Portland) I slept under the Copper Beech tree at the Portland Museum of Art, nice tree, especially at Christmas when the light every branch, all of them. I took a room at a residential hotel, rooms with one central bathroom per floor, the Everett. I got a job in South Portland at a company that made firefighting equipment for industrial use. They sold a lot to countries in the Middle East for oil rigs. Later in life I would live in the neighborhood, but I didn't know that yet. Do I really need to tell you what happened next? No, I didn't think so.
|In it, for the long haul|
|The Copper Beech tree.|