In one word, I could summarize the my entire day as being in a “funk”, which was due to a several things such as the gray skies with light rain, the cold, a banker not responding to me, the non-stop suffering in Ukraine, and my list goes on. Oh well, whether we want to admit it or not, nearly all of us have such days which most don’t even notice we’re having, because such feelings have to be camouflaged whenever in the public eye. Not to worry, tomorrow will be a better day.
While writing this just now, I remembered a conversation I had with a dear client of mine about a certain individual whom we both know as being one of those who smile far too much to the point of being a bit unsettling. I was teasing her a little when she said that by saying, “Oh, so you really want to steer clear of those who may have mass-murder tendencies?” I couldn’t help agreeing with her because I remember fully-well a Realtor who’s now out of the business, nearly always having a “canned” grin on his face. It didn’t take me long to figure out there were some pretty naughty thoughts going on behind that smile. So I guess after working with several of such people wearing their “canned” smiles, I’m also a bit more leery and standoffish.
There was a soup cook-off scheduled for Noon by our local Realtors which was to take place at the Chamber of Commerce building. It didn’t take me only a few moments to come to the conclusion that I wasn’t going because I was a afraid I would cross paths with several I’d rather not see, let alone have any sort of “faux” conversations. The interesting thing about some of my competitors who suddenly want to be my friend at such gatherings, is when knowing fully-well they’ve undermined me in one fashion or another. Perhaps they’re suffering from selective memory loss which seems to be on the rise in our world. There are three words which I absolutely hate being said to me whenever there are unresolved issues, and they being, “Let’s move on.” Oh what a cop-out. While in heated conversation with some, I’ve replied, “I’m not moving on until this is fully resolved.” This business of “moving on” is nothing more than a license for naughty people to continue doing bad things to others.
I worked on three closing files today, and one of them is fully-readied for Friday’s closing. All I have left to do is go over to the home and take the lockbox off the front door. As much as I wanted that home to go to an owner-occupant, it’s going to be another rental in our City. Oh well, as much as we want to keep the “glue” that holds neighborhoods together, there are times when our hands are tied. It makes me sad knowing that storybook house isn’t going to made great again.
The seller of it came to office today to sign docs, and after everything was completed, we had a nice chat about several of our area churches, and since we were talking about the ones no longer being in existence, I grabbed my Mason City pictorial history book.
He proceeded to tell me his parents were married in Immanuel Lutheran Church which is now where Tim Ihlenfeldt has his State Farm Insurance office. That fact he knew, but the other he didn’t, which was there being two Lutheran churches here in our City which came together to form what is now St. Paul Lutheran. The other church was the German Lutheran Church which is still standing but barely recognizable because it’s bell tower and narthex were removed, and then turned into an apartment house. If you’re wondering where it is, it happens to be that light-gray two-story apartment house located at 503 – 6th St. SE, which you see every time you’re driving the highway curve of Hwy. 122. He was definitely brought up to speed with the changes in his family’s church which he likely didn’t know because he would’ve been very young or not even born when that all took place.
He asked which Lutheran church I belonged to, so I ended up telling him the whole story about the who’s and why’s I’m playing for St. Paul Lutheran. I think by the time we finished, I had him thinking I’m some sort of free-range spiritualist who floats from one North Iowa church to another while grazing on their religious teachings. On the plus side of my “free-ranging” is getting a more broad view and understanding of our area’s churches and their congregants. There’s no question there’s a distinct difference with each and every one of them.
It appears I we won’t be closing on a home sale tomorrow which was supposed to happen, because unfortunately, the banker has not responded to my email containing copies of all the numbers he needs, as well as signed transfer documents. We’ll see what tomorrow morning brings, and if I’ve not received something early-on, I’ll be calling my seller to say it’s not going to take place. I’m afraid it’ll take some time for me to get over it, and for sure it’ll not be forgotten. It becomes an embarrassment all the way around, and especially when knowing it could’ve been avoided.
With an extra hour to kill, I likely spent too much time reading about all the horrors taking place in Ukraine. That mass-murdering Putin and his napathalene generals are certainly not living up to their so-called pulling away from Kiev because they’re now bombing them just as much or more. I’m glad all of the EU members, as well as Biden realizes he’s deranged and can’t be trusted.
I also read an article about a Ukrainian woman who managed to escape from one of those forced bus rides into Russia, and before they were transferred to another bus leading hundreds of miles away, she slipped past the guards and made her way to one of the Baltic countries where she spilled her guts about what the Russians were doing to the Ukrainians who were being relocated. Each day, all the more horrors are revealed.
Tonight’s One-liner is: Tears are the silent language of grief.