| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 |
This page is a Monthly Archive of entries from June 2008 listed from newest to oldest.
We hear them moaning in the dead of night, curse if they cross our paths when we are driving, or make a wish if they pass over us.
Freight trains are a part of our landscape.
I had an opportunity to take a trip on one of those monsters and talk to the engineer about life on the rails. This reporting took place under-the-radar of the train company, so I have blurred certain facts, places and names. Other than that, everything reported here is truth, exaggeration or hearsay.
Stepping out of the car by the railroad crossing, I find myself alone, surrounded by hectares of horizon. Awkwardly, I stand by the side of the two-lane country road and pretend to be a corn photographer as the occasional truck driver passes and looks me over.
For literature lovers on a budget, used book sales can become something of an obsession. The slippery slope begins somewhere around early registration, moves through waiting outside libraries and churches at eight in the morning on a Saturday, and ends at elbowing grandmothers and Ebay booksellers out of the fiction section.
| 
