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Best Dog Ever!

She was just a mutt, but smart as a whip, and a person couldn’t ask for more loyalty and love than she gave us.

If the Clock is Ticking

The old dog makes pitiful soundsdog-office-0031

Sleeping there by my desk

Sometimes she sounds almost human

Whining as she sneaks toward the end

There’s a ringing in my ears

Not loud, but steady

Not that it bothers me

I just notice it at times like these

Times when the house is silent

And I’m alone with my thoughts

And the ringing

And the old dog

The ceiling fan moves the air

Ever so slightly… soundlessly

If the clock is ticking…

I can’t hear it

Copyright © 2012 C. Mashburn

 

 

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Three on the Tree?

three on the tree

It’s true, we don’t see many standard transmissions these days (do they even make cars with them anymore?) and so the scene I witnessed this past Saturday morning was quite unusual.

We stopped for gas in one of those little east Texas crossroad “towns”; no more than a gas station/convenience store at a four-way stop sign, with a couple of dilapidated metal buildings next door and across the street. There was an old car—maybe a ‘90s model Mustang, but couldn’t be sure—sitting in the sloped drive facing the road. As I pumped gas into the tank, I wondered why the driver had parked there; kind of in the way. As I was climbing back into the truck, an older local (I could just tell, ah’ight) ambled out of the convenience store with a sack of fried chicken in his hand. He was “big” and I marveled at how he could even fit into the small car. He hit the starter, and the car made one protesting grind then went silent. The driver’s door immediately popped open a leg came out and with one smooth motion the car was propelled down the driveway. It lurched as he popped the clutch and the engine sputtered to life, and he made a right onto the farm road and vanished into a cloud of gray black smoke.

I grinned and in my mind went through a myriad of similar scenes of myself doing much the same thing, many times and many years ago.

 

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How it Should Be

3-8-17 4 quote

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The Good Ol’ Days

fence 3-10-17 quote

This is an excerpt from my short story, You Kids Git Outta My Yard. <—- Click on the title if you’d like to read the story,

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It Takes a Lot of Balls…

… to play golf. Especially if you’ve only played twice in the last 12 months or so, and your last round was six months ago. But, one has to put everything into perspective. Ten years ago, “a lot of balls” (I’m talking about losing them) would have been a dozen or so; yesterday, I lost three. So, as I used to enjoy telling my fellow duffers at Spicewood Beach after they’d hit a bad shot, “Well, you’re gettin’ closer!” In other words, what was a bad day yesterday was really good compared to those days of yore.

Son Bill hit the nail on the head last night, after I described my “horrific return to the links” to him. I told him about all the bad shots—like my drive on hole number five that found an unexpected water hazard. I couldn’t see it from the tee box, but there was a pond in the fairway—left over from Monday’s rain—right where my well hit shot landed. Imagine my surprise when a spray of water erupted when my ball came down. And to top it off, the “pond” was just big enough that I couldn’t retrieve the ball. Anyway, after I finished describing the horrors of the day, I finished with, “At least I managed five pars,” and Bill said, “Five pars! That would be considered an outright miracle for me!”

I guess that proves everything’s relative… pun intended. Speaking of relatives…

dont-count-that

 

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That’s One Ugly Mug Shot!

Bet you thought it would be a picture of me. Well, I don’t blame you. Why else would I use a duck for my Facebook profile picture?

But no, this pic is about cleaning house—downsizing—and how it’s made me wonder over and over, where’d we get all this stuff?

In the last few weeks, we’ve done some serious purging, getting rid of things we don’t use. Some of those things hadn’t been used in ten years! We have thrown out at least a pickup load of absolutely worthless things, and given away a couple of pickup loads to a local charity shop (The House of Hope). And we’re not finished! What is it that causes us cling to possessions like we do? With me it’s often the old “I might need that someday” syndrome.

mugsOne of the rooms we haven’t gotten to yet in this recent purging effort is the kitchen. As I reached for “my” coffee mug this morning ( I’ve had it and used it daily since 2007) I realized there were a lot of coffee cups in the cabinet. I counted them, and found we own thirty-two coffee cups!

Granted, when we have lots of people over—that happens maybe two or three times a year—we need at least six or so coffee cups. So, doing the math—naught, naught, carry the naught—we still have approximately two dozen extra coffee cups. Yep, any way you look at it, that’s one ugly mug shot right there!

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I Believe He Can Fly!

Remember that guy with the Handicap Parking sticker; my no-toes new neighbor with the attitude? Well, turns out he’s not only quick, but for a toe-less dude he can run pretty fast too! I had an opportunity to see him in action a couple days ago. Read the rest of this entry »

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