Ode to the Journeyman

Long before dawn has broken the night,

And the sun has chased off the chills,

The Journeyman readies himself for his flight,

Over rivers and valleys and hills. 

The Ford is his stallion, the map is his guide, 

He's not short on places to be. 

A foreman's no better than the men at his side, 

"Go hard or go home!" is his decree. 

Harness and lanyard, wire and reel, 

His gear and devices are plenty. 

Spud bar and klines, iron and steel, 

With tools on, he always is ready. 

Up walls, on columns, along a bridge deck,

He ties all the pieces together. 

In frigid cold, humid heat, whatever the heck, 

He works hard, no matter the weather. 

It takes a strong man to hold down this job, 

His paycheck is honestly earned. 

Blood, sweat, and grit are the way of the rod;

He embodies the skills he has learned. 

Rod Wives: When Saturday Sucks

Living as a Rod Wife can be hard enough, but what is even worse than seeing your man only two true days a week is when they work on Saturday.  Sure, overtime can be nice, but who cares about money when you are that lonely?  Oh, Mr. Scrooge?  Yeah, him, but for real?  We "pay" enough to live this way, I want my Saturday. We both sacrifice a lot to live the rod life, but it does allow me to spend this irreplaceable time with my child instead of in the work force, climbing a ladder or running with the rats.  I would rather do my work at home, but this life does come with sacrifices, as would the other one.  Everything comes with its price.

On this Saturday, for instance, my husband worked so he didn't get home until 6:30pm.  So right off the bat, Saturday feels like Friday, and obviously what should be Saturday morning is Sunday morning, soon turned Sunday evening and before the clock hands even seem to move it's Monday morning and he's leaving again.  That's barely enough time to get your laundry done, let alone feel like a family, do errands, and get some lovin's in.  At least on this Saturday, we had plans to fall into directly after he arrived which included dinner at a friend's, other children for entertainment (namely hers, meaning ours) and some wine!  So we were able to have an authentic Irish dinner and some grown up talk and beverages, while our midget enjoyed the company of some other shorties.  For a sucky Saturday it was pretty fun after all.  Most of the day was spent waiting for Joey to get home, which made it feel like Friday, but then it actually had the rewarding feeling Friday's used to have back when they included more friends, food, and fanfare, and less bawling, baths, and bedtimes.  It's nice to celebrate the return of your loved ones. Friday's were always a party; everyone was coming home.

Obviously things have changed with our week and weekend routines after having a child, but being a Rod Wife still sucks when you're both doing overtime.  Some men are gone for weeks on end, so I should be grateful we are only apart the amount that we are.  Money is nice, but not as nice as my husbands arms feel.  They can keep their money, I want our Saturday's.  It doesn't happen that often so it's important to look on the bright side of the situation when it occurs.  Absence has been known, for example, to make the heart grow fonder.  It's true.  It also makes the sex better.

Me To You,
Missie Sue

November Blog #27: "The Way Things Are"

I’m retroactively writing this blog because it was a free one.  Whatever, it’s only by a day or two.  So, take it as it is.  I need a little rant.

Monday (the day after this blog was to be posted) I had a mini case of the blues.  I don’t know what it is, but rainy days and Mondays…always get me down.  I had just got the baby to bed and sat down in the recliner chair in the living room and looked at the clock.  It was roughly 5 or so after 8:00.  I just sat there.  And then came the frown.  And then I had to have a little pity party and feel bad for myself for a minute or two.  Here it was after 8, the baby was just down to bed, I was sitting down to my evening time, whatever that was to include, and I got sad that it included me alone in the recliner chair at a time when most husbands are home from work and spending a short amount of time with their wives before they go to sleep to repeat their day tomorrow.  I don’t have this. 

Joey works away all week usually at least 2 to 3 hours away from our home.  He has tied rebar (reinforcement bar in iron work) since before I met him, this is what he has done and he tells me this when we talk about it because we discuss it a bit.  I understand this.  I am proud of him for advancing himself in construction as far as he has; he makes a living to provide for his family and works very hard doing this.  It is tremendously difficult for him to be away from us also, and sometimes I feel  I forget about that when I am being sad for myself and getting on him; wasting time we are together being sad about the fact that it is only 30% of our time.  (I did the actual math to figure out how many days out of the year we actually see each other and it was fairly depressing.)

I usually do pretty well.  Truth be told, though, when we first moved here I did cry almost every time he left for work, a few sad miss you tears and a lonely place in my heart.  Sometimes he left back then on a Sunday afternoon because he was working in West Virginia a lot.  It always seems sadder when he leaves in the afternoon, driving off into the sunset, as apposed to leaving me with a kiss and a hug in the morning, half asleep sucking up his left over warmth in our bed.  It’s a hard way of life and in some ways I am a single mother, but I can’t imagine what he feels on his end, too.  I couldn’t imagine sitting in a hotel room most of my life, wishing I was with my family.  I am grateful, though, for my husbands sacrifice so that we can live the way that we do. 

I have Drifting Sun as a small business, but honestly, it doesn’t exactly rake us in the dollars.  I’ve been lucky if I can pay our car payment for us once in a blue moon when enough profit is saved.  Most other funds go back into sustaining the little business.  I have thought long and hard for years and it has plagued me…my purpose, my vocation, my role.  I always felt that I should contribute more than I could at home.  I was raised to not feel satisfied with someone providing for me, but in recent reflections I wouldn’t rather be any where else.  I pay for this with my husband’s absence, but I also gain the opportunity to be a 24/7 mama to my daughter.  With all of the uncertainties of life and how crazy things get and how fast time goes, I would honestly not want to be anywhere else right now than at home with my daughter.  Not where I "belong", but where I choose to be. 

I am very grateful to have a good group of friends that keeps me chipper and happy.  If it wasn’t for my baby girl, some days I probably just wouldn’t get out of bed.  And if it wasn’t for my friends, some days I probably wouldn’t get dressed.  I am thankful for my family and friends that keep me company while Joey is away.  As I was saying, though, it isn’t only being lonely that gets to me.  There is something in this lifestyle that can’t be resolved by visits to family and friends popping in.  It does essentially suck that my partner and mate is gone so much, it leaves me with a sort of permanent place of solitude within me.  I can put on a good face, but things do bother me.  And it gets to me.  I’m sad a lot.  And I do well, but sometimes I just have to have a pity party for a minute or two and then I get over it.  Incidentally, after my solitary recliner reflection, friends ended up stopping by and hanging out for a little while in the evening.  It really cheered me up and put me in better spirits, that’s for sure.  Just when I was feeling low, the silver lining shows up to lift my spirits.  It sure is good having pals. 

I know this is the way things are, at least for now anyway.  We’re always open to something that could possibly be in our future that would allow my husband to be home, but we’re so used to our routine now, we might go crazy if exposed to each other so often. Haah!  My husband is in the Ironworker’s Union, though, and he has a trade that he worked a long time to establish.  I am very proud of his ability to take care of his family like he does.  He is a great man, with excellent work ethic.  He’s a great provider and still helps me out around the house when he is home on the weekends.  He is a great support and has helped me through so many things in my life; I don’t know what I would do without him.  I also don’t know what I would do with myself if I saw him more.

We live double lives, but meet in the middle at the end.  When we’re together, I’m together.