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Almost Dog Days
The heat of August seems to be steady and unmoderated all over the United States. I’ve talked to people from all over the country lately, and I can’t recall a single exception to the “It’s very hot, and even worse, it’s very humid” remark when I ask about the weather in someone’s locale. Mrs. Orr was talking to the kids and grandkids in Texas last night, and I spoke briefly to Numbah One Grandson. I asked him, “Is it hot there?” And he replied, with eyes cast up at the ceiling fan, propellering above his head, “Oh, it’s real hot.” This from a Texan. ‘Nuff said. Yesterday was a two-shower…
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All I’ve Got
I was working at my desk this afternoon when I heard Bluebelle whimper and fuss behind me. I looked back at her, followed her gaze, and saw a lovely young spike buck in the front yard, feeding on whatever caught his liquid brown eye. I watched him for a bit, took a few pictures, and then sat back down. When I looked up again, the buck was gone. He lives with a fully-grown six-pointer, two does, and a fawn in the woods behind our house. It is a never-fading wonder to watch such lithe, muscular beauty move through my world in such an unself-conscious way. And I am grateful. ***…
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Tenant Glance
Tenant Glance When I first came to this place (or did It come to me?), it was chewed, open, Denuded, with no whisper of slow stride On its hide. But now it has curled In on me, reclaiming the little areas I’veĀ marked, implacable in its green and curved Gaze, knowing it can outlast me. ~ S.K. Orr
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Update On Mrs. Orr
I wanted to thank all of you who took the time to leave comments and email me about my wife’s health issues. I am especially grateful for those of you who have been praying for her. Just a small point of clarification, because I realize that in my haste to get the post up, I inaccurately described one of Mrs. Orr’s symptoms. In fact, her throat has not been swelling. She describes it as a sort of spasming. And she believes it may be psychological, a sort of panicked reaction. Any time she swallows wrong and, for example, aspirates water, the terrors just wash over her and it’s difficult for…
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Covordidities
Guess I shouldn’t have shot my mouth off about people reveling in their various diagnoses. Looks like Mrs. Orr has the ‘rona. She wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and we thought it was a sinus infecton/allergy thing. She laid low most of the day except for a brief errand excursion, and when we retired, she seemed fine. Around 0300 this morning, my wife began coughing uncontrollably. She’s done this on and off for years, and it’s a very frightening thing. She says that she can literally feel her throat closing up, and this induces a panicky state, which makes her breathe faster, which turns the whole thing into a debilitating cycle.…
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Home In High Summer
We went down into town this morning for an outing, but we almost didn’t go. Mrs. Orr has been battling a sinus thing that has migrated down into her chest and she’s been very weak from all the coughing. But she wanted to get out of the house and so we did. We ended up forgetting to buy the one thing we really went for, but that was all right. There’s an oriental market (yes, I’m aware that I’m supposed to say “Asian,” but that’s just too bad, innit?) where we sometimes shop for staples like Japanese matcha green tea, soba noodles, miso paste, and the odd vegetable like immaculate…
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Animals and Other Creatures
A good rainstorm sluiced through the area yesterday, and when I looked out on the front porch, I saw what appeared to be a very small, very intense Benedictine monk praying at the makeshift altar at the edge of the boards. He stayed there for quite a while, and stared at Mrs. Orr when she came to the window as if to say, “Private time. Vespers. Don’t intrude. Do you mind?” And then I went to the landfill today to drop off some trash. The place usually does a pretty good job of controlling feral cats, rats, and other critters, but the last two times I’ve been at the landfill,…
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Almost A Lot of Things
The other morning I bent to get a watering can so I could give some of my wife’s porch flowers a drink. When I looked down at the can, I saw movement inside. A butterfly was marooned inside, flapping its wings with less-than-vigorous motion. I reached in and scooped the little fellow up, then held him before my face. I have no way to prove this, but I could tell that the butterfly was exhausted. I held him on my hand for a minute, then called to Mrs. Orr and asked her to hold him on her palm so I could have some perspective for a photo. She whispered to…
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A Day No Chests Would Swell
When I arose this morning, I tiptoed out onto the back porch and sat for a long time, listening to the mountains come awake, watching the woods and fields shake off the night’s humid blanket. I checked the dogs’ water dish and saw that some insects had perished there during the night. There were two daddy long legs, which have the habit of trying to drink from the dish at night and falling in and drowning, I lifted the little bodies with their curled-under legs and placed them in one of the flower boxes, where I knew the ants would soon find them and do their recycling job. Then I…
- Bluebelle, Daily Life, Dixee, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Mrs. Orr, Photographs, Reflections
Firth of Jelly
Early this morning, Bluebelle went to the patio door, huffing and rumbling. I didn’t look outside to see what might be causing her displeasure, but instead let the dogs out into the backyard. Then I returned to the patio door and looked out through the blinds. A young buck was feeding with quiet deliberation among the young grapevines and tiger lilies between the trees lining the driveway. I managed to get a couple of photos of him, marveling at his movements, delicate and powerful, and also shaking my head at Bluebelle’s ability to hear this silent creature at least thirty yards from the front door, with Americana music playing in…