Jinx
-
Numbering The Stones
If you look carefully at the photo above, you will see a daddy longlegs in the upper left quadrant. I took this picture this past Saturday while Jinx and I were exploring in the little country cemetery near our farm. We were there explicitly to count the gravestones, something I had been meaning to do for some time. The gravestone itself is one of my favorites, the marker of a Jesse Lane, who served the Confederacy in a regiment from his home state. The stone is simple and dignified, like the ones at Arlington National Cemetery, and I usually touch it in passing. On this particular cool day, it radiated…
-
Spanking Clean
Got home and got the spotted menace into the bathtub. I won’t describe the barking, whining, frantic, scrambling details. I will only express gratitude. Gratitude that the mix of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and Dawn dish soap worked to remove the skunk-stink. And gratitude that it’s over. Until the next time Jinx decides the black cat with the white stripey tail is just soooooo cute and irresistable. Farm life. Jinx life. Here we are. Praise Christ for another day. ~ S.K. Orr
-
Hoist By His Own Inner Retard
Mrs. Orr reported that when she let Jinx outside this morning, he was full of zest: bounding around, leaping, grinning, eager to get outside. I got up shortly after she did and after pouring a cup of coffee, I went to see if Jinx was ready to come inside and eat his breakfast. He was, and he trotted through the door and into the dining room. And that’s when it hit me. “Could you come here a sec? I think I smell something.” I called to my wife. She poked her head around the door. “Oh, no,” she said. Skunk. Majorly. Ah, hell. This is going to be a very…
-
Intact Routine
Yesterday was one of the most perfect days I can remember. When we awoke, a cool front had blown in and it was raining steadily. After feeding the dogs, my wife started breakfast (breakfast burritos from scratch…just one more element in a perfect day) and I took the spotted menace out for a soaking ramble through the hills. The mist was curling like Fafnir’s breath, silver and sinister, reaching into hidden places erupting from black chasms in the slick rock. We padded along, Jinx’s paws making a curious leatherlike sound on the wet leaves. We walked and looked and stopped and gazed and strolled and smiled — yes, Jinx smiles…
-
Let It Stay
The sky was as blue as a cornflower marble, wisps of cirrus clouds high in the ceiling, and there were no vapor trails, no intruding airplanes. There were only hawks up there, and Jinx, sky-aware as always, sat with me and watched them in their fixed-wing thermal soarings. We were in the cemetery grass, and it was warm and soft there in the green, on the carpet that covers the sleeping remains of fathers and daughters, mothers and sons. The carved and lettered stones stood around us as if watching, and they were speaking, though not in voices a waking man can hear. I watched Jinx as he watched the…
-
Leaves Change, Dogs Lie
As I write these words, Jinx is sleeping in the recliner on the back porch. I came out here to do a bit of writing and he came out with me. As is his custom, the spotted menace hopped up in my lap to snuggle, and so scribbling with my pencil in my notebook became nigh impossible. We rocked and watched the rain and the birds and the chipmunks, and we rested. I needed to go inside at one point so I could put clothes into the dryer, and when I stood up, Jinx got back into the chair and made himself comfortable. When I returned, he was asleep, but…
-
Young October
And now September has flown away with the hummingbirds, leaving the young and quiet October as sentry to my observed life. We haven’t yet had our first frost, but the mornings are damp and chilly, and I’ve resumed wearing a hat on my morning rambles with the spotted menace. The spider webs are visible on many plants and structures, dew-decked and glistening like ice wheels. The wildflowers are dying back slowly; this morning Jinx and I passed between rows of late chicory, the vivid blue a contrast to the murky air around us. The leaves on the trees are slowly turning. I’m growing a tiny oak tree in a flowerpot…
-
Free Stu Scheller!
When Jinx and I stepped outside Sunday morning into the mist, I saw a funnel spider’s web in the grass. It was one of the larger ones I’ve seen in a while, big as a plate and perfectly situated. I knelt down as best I could in the grass and examined the structure. How many hours did it take to build? How successful was it in trapping food for its builder? All those little struts and girders and beams and buttresses and studs and strips and joists…all from the body of the one who erected it and then retreated back into the funnel to await that trembling signal of live…
-
The Last Monday of Summer
The light was eerie this morning, filtered through a mist that seemed lighter yet more substantial than usual. As Jinx and I patrolled the high ridges and scanned for deer, it was as silent as a shepherd’s crook. The moon was hidden by clouds, but I could sense its power and presence behind the vapor veil, and was reminded that the full moon will be upon us tonight. A corridor of high tulip poplars lines our driveway, and a hoot owl was perched somewhere in them this morning in the darkness. He called his mournful Morse code into the new morning — whoo, whoo, whoo-whooooooo — and I thought of…
- Daily Life, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Music, Photographs, Prayers, Quotations, Reflections, Saints
Squinting Towards Armageddon
“I can, with one eye squinted, take it all as a blessing.” ~ Flannery O’Connor Before I set down the day’s thoughts, I want to express my humble gratitude for the many warm and supportive comments I received on my most recent post (the most comments I’ve ever received, in fact!). When I say “humble gratitude,” I mean exactly that. I am grateful for the kindness, but I am also humbled by the display from you, my readers who mean more to me than you can know. I also wanted to say that I’m somewhat chagrined after re-reading the post, which I had composed at the end of a weary…