Can't Make Myself Understood

It comes back to me over and over again that too many people just don't understand what I'm saying.  This has been a problem for me most of my life and, try as I will, I can't seem to make it work.

I think I'm being perfectly clear about what I'm saying but the proof is in how many times people get a different take on it and that bothers me no end.

I thought for a while I should just sit quietly and not speak at all but that's not me.  I have opinions and I speak them.  I guess I'll just have to pay the consequences.

Sooo, yesterday I went for a nice long drive along the Grand River in and out of Caledonia.  It being mid October, I thought the scenery would be full of fall colors but it was not to be.  We've had such a mild fall so far that there are only tiny specks of gold or red hidden in among the lush greenery.  I'll try again next week.

Caledonia is a particular interest of mine because of how cute it is and how much native dissent has been seen there.  I noticed a lot of new construction in town since last year and wasn't too impressed.  I prefer the old, tiny town feel of their downtown.  As I drove along the river, there was way too much house construction blocking it and I felt it had been a mistake to allow any more construction on that side of the road.

The house construction died off as I got a little further out of town and it was pleasant to see the land against the river still being used as farmland.  I wondered who was responsible for preserving that, the government or the natives.  Whoever, I applaud them.

Now I'm wondering if anyone would take that comment as racist.  I almost give up but I'm beginning to not give a hot damn if someone misunderstands me.

I saw a spot where I think a couple I knew way back once lived.  The husband was in his early 20's and his wife was 13 years old.  They had a baby.  I'm wondering what kind of laws we had in effect back in the 1960's.  

I saw another house further on that I think my friend, Irene, and her family once lived in.  I remembered parties there.  The landscape changes but some things still remain to prompt our memories.

My route takes me up Hwy 6, left along the river until I reach Hwy 3.  Hwy 3 takes me to Hwy 56 towards home.  I passed a house I think Joyce and Larry once lived in.  There is so much new construction in that area that it looks very different now so I'm not sure it was the right house.

On I went until I found my way home again.  It was a nice drive but I need to repeat it when the autumn leaves are in their glory.

Others might not understand me but I do.