Daily Life
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Paw
He was not my kin, but perhaps someday I will find that he was, after all, one of my people. My only connection to him is long gone from my life, an ill-fated romance birthed in high school. But she introduced me to Paw, and so I am somewhat indebted to her for bringing me into his eccentric and loveable orbit. Paw was what we used to call a coon-ass, born and bred down in Louisiana’s swamp country, that murky and mystical patch of America with its legends and lore, its distinctive patois and food all a part of the myths of the Cajun people. He and his wife, Granny,…
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Sunday Evening, Full Dark
I toted an extension ladder about 100 yards this evening and I feel like I fought with the devil all day. My lassitude isn’t helped by the supper Mrs. Orr fixed, which was smoked pork chops, butterpeas with bacon, cornbread, and baked taters. We took all of the dogs for a walk in early evening, and it seems to have worn them out. Usually at this time of night, they’re getting on our nerves and testing the limits. Right now, it’s snores, cubed. We did a bit of our own snoring earlier today. My wife and I kwiled up and took a long, long nap. We woke up, assessed the…
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7 October
We haven’t seen many bluebirds at all this year at the farm, but this evening, my wife called me to the window to watch a large group of them taking turns at the birdbath in the front garden. Gorgeous creatures, blue and orange, splashing and playing their bird games. It was God’s gift to my wife, whose birthday we celebrated today. I played hooky from work and we went on a jaunt, ate lunch at one of our favorite little hideaways, did some browsing, then came home and rested. Happy Birthday to my beloved wife, my best friend and the best human being I’ve ever known. I’m so glad you’re…
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Because It’s Sunday
That Sunday gloom has settled in on me, which is a common lifelong thing. I’ve learned to accept it as part of my genetic makeup, and I’ve learned to ride it out rather than seek solutions. Today’s somberness was probably brought on by an extended period of thought about my mother, that unknown and unknowable woman who shaped me and with whom I fought and argued all the days we had together. I was looking out at the leaves dropping from the branches and listening to Jinx snore softly at my feet, and I could see her so clearly, with her sad expression, and I wondered again at how she…
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‘Tis October
The hurricane/tropical storm took an eastward cank as it approached the eastern states and so most of the rain missed us. We had some on Friday evening, then overnight that night pretty hard, but yesterday it only sprinkled a time or two, and today is dry but blissfully cloudy. Friday night, Mrs. Orr was driving home and texted me, “Look at the rainbow.” I went outside and looked west, but saw only a golden sky, lit from behind the rain clouds. When I turned back to the house, there it was, a double rainbow in the northeast of our little world, and my heart sang within me as I stood…
- Bluebelle, Daily Life, Dixee, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Mrs. Orr, Photographs, Reflections
Little Things
I sat up late Friday night watching Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet. Fatigue forced me to watch the conclusion the next day; I awoke at 200 am with my head on Bluebelle’s hip. I believe we were both snoring. My heart is sad this morning, but it has nothing to do with the brooding Danish prince. Yesterday morning, while the sun was slanting down through the trees, I went to walk in the woods. The beams of light from our life-giving star were as solid as blonde pine joists, as substantial as anything into which I might drive a nail, as anything onto which I might hang an old family photograph. I…
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Summer’s End
For the first time in my entire life, the end of summer has sparked within me a feeling of melancholy. Time was, I would rejoice at the end of hot weather and welcome the cooler temperatures. But this year, the approaching winter is heralded by the awareness of many things new to me, things of which I have become aware, things that leave me sitting for long stretches with head down and eyes unseeing. This is the world, and I must, as Dylan Thomas admonished, have faith. Goodbye, summertime of this year. You will have passed forever in just a few more thumps of the heart. And Happy Birthday, Weia…
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Last Sunday of the Summer
We spent yesterday down in North Carolina, starting out at an apple orchard we’ve visited a couple of years back. At that time, we took some of the grandkids with us and had quite the tiring day, hiking the orchards and picking our own apples. Just the two of us this year, and we opted for a less strenuous agenda. When we arrived, we got in line for the bakery. Priorities, dontchaknow. The line was long, but from the time we joined the queue until we paid for our purchases, we spent only 30 minutes. The day was warm but pleasant, and it was an enjoyable half-hour. We were mindful…
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The Cold Rolling Towards Me
I began this post in longhand, sitting at my desk this morning, allegedly working, watching tufts of cool mist hanging in the air outside the glass door. This is the time of year when the nearest neighbor is separating his cows from the calves, in preparation for market. The worried mamas have been bawling all day, as they have been for the two days before. The air over the farm is anxious, fretful, which is a shame, because we’ve just gotten our first dose of fall-like weather, about 50F at night and in the mid-70s today, air as clear as an infant’s eyes, same deep blue, same lack of omens…
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Nine Eleven
Neither Mrs. Orr nor I even thought about it being 9/11 today until almost noon. We haven’t been paying attention to any news here in the USA, but have instead been enjoying watching a lot of BBC and Queen Elizabeth II’s funeral preparations and King Charles III’s proclamations and preparations for coronation in the future. It’s really interesting to watch the BBC. It’s declined a lot over the years but it still much more watchable than anything on American tv. I remember being in Scotland many years ago and loving the BBC Radio’s Third Programme, which always had classical music, spoken verse, short stories read aloud, and music and literary…