Jinx
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Bless The Beasts
Last night while my wife and I were relaxing, I watched the spotted twins romp. The ever-sleeping Dixee paid them no heed, continuing to slumber in her little bed by my wife’s chair, undisturbed in her deafness and warm in her sweater. It’s never a sure bet as to which dog will start the donnybrook. When Jinx does it, he usually sits above Bluebelle and growls at her, a rising wail that concludes with three or four sharp barks. While he’s barking at his sister, he’s looking around at us to see if we’re watching. Then he moves to Bluebelle and starts gnawing on a leg or snapping at her…
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Fourth Sunday in Advent
I was thinking today about the year when we didn’t think we’d have a Christmas. We saw my daddy between two and four times a year. One of those visits was always between Thanksgiving and Christmas. He would show up and slam his truck door loud enough for us to hear it, and my sister and I would run outside to greet him. He would stand there, fists on hips, that devious, smiling, lean, dishonest devil of a father, laughing that completely delighted laugh of his, his weather-bronzed face split by an enigmatic smile, and scoop us up in his arms and swing us around as he loped to the…
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Second Sunday in Advent
We attended a Christmas party last night, the only one to which we’ll show up this year, except for the upcoming annual gathering with eldest son and his clan, to which will be added a son in late January. The party wasn’t excruciating, and we were well fed. We don’t eat a lot of beef these days because of the high cost, but I made up for it last night. Extremely tender beef tenderloin, a nice herbed chicken, green beans, lumpy mashed potatoes (and that is NOT a complaint), salad, and rolls, and started off with chicken salad, crab rangoon, pimento cheese, and several other finger foods and croo dee…
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Something That Will Not Rest
I have been a foolish, greedy, and ignorant man; Yet I have had my time beneath the sun and stars; I have known the returning strength and sweetness of the seasons, Blossom on the branch and the ripening of fruit, The deep rest of the grass, the salt of the sea, The frozen ecstasy of mountains. The earth is nobler than the world we have built upon it; The earth is long-suffering, solid, fruitful; The world is still shifting, dark, half-evil. But what have I done that I should have a better world, Even though there is in me something that will not rest Until it sees Paradise…? Johnson in…
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East Again
It’s a funny thing, how fast everything moves in this world, and how that existential speed can disorient us. A week and a half ago, we got into a box of metal and steel, and we sat in it all day and part of the night, and when we got out of the box, we were in another country. We were in Texas, and how did that happen? It’s also a funny thing how different people can be in different regions of the same country. When we go home to Texas to visit, we’re always struck with how different the people are from the people we live around now. We’re…
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All Hallow’s Eve Eve
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. ~ Edgar Allen Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher Since childhood, I have enjoyed Mr. Poe’s stories and poems, and that opening line from Usher is so evocative of a certain type of day in the fall, and today, here in these mountains, we have just such a…
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Wantin’ To Go To Texas
I incurred the displeasure of the dogs today by plunking a small straw cowboy hat on their heads and taking photos of them. But I do believe — ah, here is mystery! — that they warmed to the experience, and that they were spurred (if I may be allowed a small pun) to cast their thoughts to Tejas, and to dream of being cattle dogs, and of chousing longhorns across a bluebonnet-draped field, and to rout the javelinas in the thicket, and to never again be really cold, and to learn to tell the difference between rattlesnakes and blacksnakes. Clothes make the man, they say, and hats make the dog,…
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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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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…