Friday, August 14, 2015

The Fire Pit

There was the time we all worked in the yard and Dad and I built a fire pit.

Good times.
Does a fire pit have to be finished and in working order to be called a fire pit?  Because we dug a pretty good sized hole and then put some funky looking bricks around it before we had to stop because of a mound of fire ants.
Mom and the girl started hollering so Dad and I stepped in to save the ladies.  Basically, we just lit part of the backyard on fire, even though it made Mom really nervous.
Dad says moms are like that, and that he knows what he's doing despite what Mom says.
I know what I'm doing too.
Basically, I just stick with Dad, that's what I do.

Once the fire pit was built, the Spring rains came and filled the pit for a solid month.
Dad said not to worry about it because that fire pit was designed in such a way to serve two purposes.
 In the cooler weather when Mom was wishing for a fire pit to warm her toes by, we would have one ready to go.  But, in the rainy season, the fire pit would serve as a measurement for the water level under the ground.  Dad said that he knew what he was doing when he built it that way.

Dad also said that he really didn't think it was such a good idea to drink out of the fire pit, but I think he just means that Rodney shouldn't drink out of the fire pit because he's so small.  One gust of wind and Rodney could fall in, and then I would have to get up and go save him.
And since I really have a lot to do during the waking hours of the day, and because I'm the exact opposite of a St. Bernard, I would rather not have to save Rodney if it can be avoided.
He can be very needy, that Rodster fellow.
Sometimes I have to take a nap just thinking about him.

So, I'm off to nap then.
It seems like the right thing to do.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Me and my girl....George blogs again

If you have missed me lately, I apologize.  If you are wondering who I am, I apologize.  Mom is kinda bad about keeping me in the public eye.  Breaks my heart really.  How busy must that woman be?  I swear, the extra things she takes on.
Yet, somehow I'm still in very sore need of a bath.  As is the Rodster.
Dude smells.

That is all I have to say on the matter because anything else would be rude, and I'm a gentleman first and foremost.

Speaking of my gentlemanly charm....We have a new lady in the camp.
Meet Cali.

Love of my life, and keeper of my heart key.  At least I think she has it.  I should probably check. Girl can be kinda batty at times.
But, darn if that isn't one of her most endearing qualities.
Next to those soulful eyes, and that smile she has.
It all sort of makes up for her obsession with squirrels, and her passion for midnight barking.

And, because I'm a gentleman, I try to go with her on her midnight rounds.
We circle the entire yard, stopping at each corner to bark incessantly.  Sometimes I just lie down next to her while she barks.  I figure that my main job is primarily to be there for moral support.  Show her that I'm interested in her and her interests.  That sort of thing.
No need for both of us to howl at the moon, or the next door cat.  We all have our passions.
Mine just lean more towards sedentary things, like naps.

But, that's my girl.  She barks the yard over every night until Mom or Dad start tapping on the window.  At which point she will run over to them and smile her biggest smile.  I think she smiles at them because she can sense that they aren't happy for some reason, and she knows her smile will cheer them up.
It doesn't always seem to work though, because Mom and Dad don't usually smile during barking hour.
That's when the kid comes out and explains to Cali that barking hour has ended and that it is time to go to bed.  At which point she runs happily over to her doghouse so she can have her collar attached to the chain.

I have to say that if you asked me to name one thing about my girl that I don't understand, it would be her love for that crazy chain.
She gets so excited every night when it is time to be hooked up to the chain, that some nights she even sits next to the chain and hollers until the kid comes out to set it up.
Personally, I think the chain has become a bit of a security blanket for her, but who am I to put my nose where it doesn't belong.
If that is what she needs to sleep peacefully, more power to her.  I'm content with lying next to her.  Or if she is in the mood for solitude, I sleep nearby under the swing.
Close enough to hear her breathing, but far enough away that she can pretend I don't exist.  In case she ever wanted to.
Not that she would ever want to pretend that.

We're bosom buddies, she and I.  Heart mates.  Best friends.  Lovers of each others souls, and all that jazz.

Just gotta check on that key....
Make sure she hasn't misplaced it, love her heart.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

with you...

We should try and do something together today.  Alone.
Just me and you, and you and me.
Take a little time and remember why we started this whole thing anyway.  What it feels like to just be two again. Nothing added or in between.
Those reasons we wanted to be teammates and partners, lovers and friends.  forever and ever and amen. The reasons we still plan for our future, remember our past, and hold on to our today's.

And so we did.
Days spent with you are my favorite, my Love.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Thought for the day....humility

I am drawn to humility.  Those who are humble without really trying to be, and those who put others needs consistently above their own.  Perhaps this is because I see so little of this virtue within myself.  How many times have I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, manipulated my circumstances to favor my own desires, and shifted my chair a little closer to the limelight....
Just a little shift.
tiny bit more
Maybe a couple more inches?
Right there under the giant shaft of sunlight streaming in, so that all can marvel at my new outfit, my latest joke, or my really good hair day.
Lord, help me.  I shouldn't be allowed out in public.

My point being, that for someone like me, who has never even seen what goes on backstage, I marvel at those who choose to be there.  Those who prefer the quiet corners of the room, or the pleasure of just listening without being asked to speak or perform.  I am in awe of those who would be perfectly happy with a life well lived, but not necessarily a life well known.
And I often wish I were in that happy little club of the peaceful and the graceful...
those who see me before they see themselves.
Then again, it isn't hard to see me is it....what with that giant sunbeam I'm sitting under...

Oh, Father help me to remember that all are created equal in your loving eyes, and no one person is greater than any other.  Help me to be more like that precious boy of yours who came to the earth a King and took on the "nature of a servant"*.  He freakin ROCKED this world, and I long to do the same.
But for You.
For Your glory, not mine.
Think I'll move my chair back a bit.

*Phillipians 2:7