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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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Last Weekend in Standard Time
Jinx didn’t let us sleep in too late today, which was a pity because I was still exhausted from yesterday’s little stroll. But spotted dogs with small brains and enormous personalities cannot be denied, and we laughed together as he bounded around the room, growling and moaning. Yes, moaning. Jinx has a peculiar noise he makes when he’s trying to provoke us into playing with him, a noise that sounds quite a bit like the timbers in the HMS Indefatigable with HH on the bridge during a storm. A deep, creaky, groany glissando up and down three octaves. Moaning will have to do as the noun here. The moaning. Oh,…
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Supping On Beauty
Down the gravel road to home this evening, the dust hanging in the air from a hurrying tractor, and then into the tunnel of shade created new each day by the tall poplars lining the driveway. Walk in the house and see the old dog waiting for me on the steps, her tail thump-thump-thumping as she grins her “Oh, you came back!” grin. Kiss my wife and listen to her etude of a Southern voice run the scales and describe something someone did and said. Shed the work clothes and put on my soft home clothes, the t-shirt gleaming white as a saint’s robe, the scent of bleach and detergent…