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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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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…