Where seeds of thought have room to grow
Category: My Country Life
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"…I want to get leaner and meaner, sharp-edged & earth-colored, till I fade away from pure joy." This is part of a verse written on a plaque that a friend gave me a few years ago. I thought of these words as I strolled beside Charly this morning on our walk. Yes, he's still scrambling…
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I'm playing hooky from work today (with permission)…maybe not the wisest decision in many ways, considering the holidays last week (I don't get paid when I'm not there), the expenses of this past weekend, bills that will need to be paid and Christmas just around the corner. But last year I had boxes piled around the house…
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…a houseful of family, including all three of my kids…blue skies and mild temperatures perfect for opening windows, walking through the woods and up to the top of the hill, and playing ping-pong…my mother's cornbread dressing recipe and Thanksgiving Day dinner instructions…double ovens and Chinette plates…in-laws who chip in and help out… I'm grateful for friends…
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It's like magic…whenever Shallue families gather in one place, you can count on a cribbage board and several decks of cards materializing on a nearby surface. Tom's mom and dad arrived Saturday evening and already there have been dozens of cribbage games, 3-13 matches (a kind of rummy), and the curses, whines, excuses, (and pages and…
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It's almost too much for me to fathom that Thanksgiving is only a week away. Why does time speed up so much as you get older? Is it because you start to realize how precious each minute is and you know you've wasted zillions of them already that you can't get back? Do we then…
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Long Hollow waking up…what a beautiful way to start a new week… Happy Monday!
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I don't like working as late as I did today, shutting down my office about the same time the sun is calling it a day. I like to have it still shining bright when I pull up to the house. It makes me feel like I still have hours and hours left to get things done.…
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If I were an artist, I would paint a picture of this hollow as it looked this morning…muted greens and browns along the road where the mists and shadows of night still lingered…blazing golds and reds in the treetops and hillsides basking in the fresh sunshine….Max, Charly and Frankie making their way along the caliche road…
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Frankie pecked at the door this morning – "where the heck are you?" – pulling me away from my writing and out for our morning walk, later than normal. I was entangled with words and story, reluctant to stop, unaware of the time. The sun was already up above the hill, the hollow full of…
Long Hollow 