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| a crane grows in |
On misty backlit nights, in a Triangle town, souls wander, wonder, stroll. Some are Asses, some are Angels. All need a good drink. Or three.
That shot was from last night – Wednesday. A good day, all in all. Lots of activities that can be plunked down in the ‘success’ column, if ledger domain is your game. It inspires the soul to stretch, to look out from the entrance of the cave that has been its haunting ground for … well, for too long now.
A stroll along the side yard with this beast –
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| under the storm, waiting |
– and the misty rain didn’t cause me to run inside (though Hali-tron would have preferred that, truly). No, I turned my face skyward and allowed, enjoyed, welcomed the rinse, the freshening. It was nice.
This may show up at a blog address that’s different from the past – this is noted as ‘considerations’ at the top of my web page where I cobble together words to poorly express the thoughts that barely capture the feelings I step through. Was it “Words Here”? Think ’10:30 will be fine’ was a title of an earlier blog. Think I’ve gotten to a good place where I should care more of these details, but I do not. They are not as important as I believe they could be.
Today is the date, in 2003, when we welcomed home Blue-dog, our very first furry family member. Boo took to watching a video of Blue racing about a fenced in a parking lot off of Santa Monica blvd, in Hollywood, from say September of that year, that I posted to Facebook earlier. Blue-dog shows her love of ‘barbell’ squeaky toys, and Boo and I sound both happy and young. Oh the powers of time travel and technology.
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| Blue-dog seeming tuckered from her mandatory visit to the vet for tutoring |
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| Boo seeming pleased by our decision |
You can’t ever really know which action will be the most important, or the most beneficial. I’ve been reading a few books lately, trying to catch up to where I’d like to be. Words describing good ideas and paths to plans to project ourselves to a better us in the future. All quite good.
Alicia bonding with Blue at the shelter, and the stepping stone path we bounded down from that point – who would have known? Taking the risk allows for untold/unimagined outcomes. Which lead to consequences of their own, yes? But the joy bubbles up through the tears, up through the ache, and I recall how awesome Blue’s brindled legs were, and how her thump as she came to bed between Boo and I was always solid, always loving, always completing in her own way a good life she enjoyed, we enjoyed. A good life.
I wish that upon us all, to enjoy a good life, even if the path takes us to places we don’t like, to parts of our very own undergrounds that seem to never have an end. We have friends and family that love and support us on our journeys, celebrate the good and great, commiserate on the not so good, not so great. I’m incredibly lucky to have age-old friends, newly acquired acquaintances, and the whole lot in between that have been crucial to me getting this far.
{{9:26p + 4Jun2015 = Thrusday eve || Radical Face – Welcome Home}}
“Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline
Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass
Was never much but we made the most
Welcome home”
Pretty sure I have this tune with thanks to The Following, a strange and oddly enjoyable show I soaked in while Boo was out and about. Good tunes. Always like a good tune.
Let’s be good to each other out there, ok? Please?
ciao,
:: s :: | vivere militare est |