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First Sunday Of Advent
Too exhausted to write tonight….apologies to my readers. Bless you all. ~ S.K. Orr
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Wild Kingdom
Go ahead. It’ll be okay. Those little birds do it for crocodiles all the time… ~ S.K. Orr
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Out With The Old, China Excavations, & In With The New
The HVAC team told me they would be here at 0900 this morning. At precisely 0855, they were rolling up to the house. They unloaded the new units, indoor and outdoor, and set to work. Several complications ensured, with trips back to the shop to fabricate a metal box to facilitate easier joining to the ductwork, and quite a bit of excavation in order to securely set in the new indoor unit. They’re digging as I type this, in fact. I’ve already claimed dibs on any arrowheads, musket balls, or casks of Amontillado they might uncover. I feel awash in technology today. Here I am, tapping on a device that…
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Comfortable And Peaceful
It just came to me. Two days ago, our heat pump, aging and creaking thing that it was, died on us. I discovered the problem on a morning when it was 26F outside. By that evening, it wasn’t much warmer inside. To say that Christmas will be lean this year is to undersell the truth. Almost six grand to replace everything that needs replacing. Tomorrow morning, the HVAC fellows will return and install the new unit. Or as my wife and I have begun calling it, our joint Christmas gift to each other. Some people take Caribbean cruises. The Orrs get big, heavy objects that heat and cool their…
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Despicable Week
His name was Bill, and he meant something. We weren’t close friends, but I enjoyed Bill’s presence and appreciated his gentle, self-deprecating manner. The last time I saw him, he was walking with a cane, like I do now in the evenings when Jinx and I go for walks. He always had a smile and a shrug and a clear, blue-eyed gaze of friendliness and curiosity. He died a few days ago. An observant neighbor, noticing that a yard-putterer like Bill hadn’t been outside on a fine, mild November afternoon, went to his door to investigate. She found Bill in his bed, and the medical examiner later determined that he’d…
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Turning Away But Not Away
The dogs let us sleep in a bit this morning, so by the time Jinx and I were out for our walk, dawn was just about to break. We stopped long enough for me to take a photo just before the sun peeked over the mountains. When the big star appeared, I took one more photo and then we turned to continue our walk. When I turned around, I saw the sunlight touch the far ridge to the west, above the cemetery. As I watched, the light traveled across the earth towards us, like a curtain of gold being drawn down. I could almost taste the air at that moment,…
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The Fabric Of Sadness
I have a friend — we’ll call her Lydia — whom I haven’t seen in several months. The last time we met, Lydia told me about her brother, Jake, who had recently had a massive, debilitating stroke. At the time of the event, Jake had been caring for his girlfriend, who had suffered a similar stroke some months prior. While describing their sad plight, Lydia said, “They’re all each other have. They pretty much just lay in bed and comfort each other by talking to each other.” I promised to pray regularly for all of them. Yesterday, I saw Lydia again, and the first thing I asked her was how…
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Six Caws
I love the magic of the mornings at this time of year. Driving to work in the damp dark, lights like paint strokes across the black asphalt, twisting devils of leaves writhing in the headlights, passing the sleepy pockets of light that I know are houses hidden in the hollows, where coffee is dripping into a clear, clean pot and the news is buzzing on some device in the background while stiff spines try to loosen and heavy eyelids attempt their lifts. How many secrets, how many stories I pass as I glide past in the dark, in the morning, in the stillness of November. And then arriving at my…
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No Corner
Reader, pen-friend, and encourager par excellence Stef sent me a couple of photos from the Sangre de Cristos mountain range, and I thought I’d share them here, with gratitude to Stef. Also thanks to Stef’s Bjori-dog, who initiated the jaunt that led to the pictures. Truly, I don’t have a corner on the market when it comes to beautiful places to live. These are magnificent shots, revealing a stark, arid beauty. ~ S.K. Orr
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One And Two Hundred Forty-Five
In my younger years, today was always significant, as it marks the birthday of the United States Marine Corps. This year is the 245th birthday of Mother Green, the Killing Machine. And while I have mixed feelings about my beloved Corps and the path she’s taken in recent politically-correct years, I will forever be proud of my association with the epitome of masculine insanity I lived and breathed for six years. Happy Birthday, Devil Dogs! But today marks a sadder anniversary. One year ago today, our beloved Bonnie left us in the early morning hours and left a void that will never be filled. I am grateful for my rambunctious…