Living Life and Writing Life

 Reading

 Pondering

     Writing a series I'm titling The Darkness Within in response to Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor, Flannery O'Connor's Prayer Journal, and Speak What We Feel: Not What We Ought to Say by Fredrick Buechner. More words to come, as they come, and as I commit to them.

Entering the Dark Cloud of God sermon by Barbara Brown Taylor.

Hanging

     We spent much of the weekend getting the hang of a new acquisition that is supposed to make our lives easier. Sister called it a pup tent today. I suppose it is that: a pup tent for four, on top of the rig, sans the pup!

There is a ladder on the other side, but why would we use that?

     We learned a bit later in the weekend to make sure your toys fit in the garage before and after adventuring. Set up and settled into, then stuffed full of bedding (to save rig room), the tent no longer compressed enough to fit into the garage upon take down. It was a mere 3" shy of clearance. Ugh! Engineers to the rescue; a solution is in progress. More details to come in Land Rovering with Little People: Tent Triumphant, an article for Rovers North.

 Dodging

 35 dirt balls later, he left the garden.
The residue of his play upon him.

His pile was outfitted and stashed.

Now to find an unsuspecting subject.

His sister perhaps?

But no, not his mother.

She knew. 

She took the hose to him,

giving him ample warning of her ammunition.

His hair smelled like a campfire. 

A heady sweet smoke, skyward bound. 

But his feet bore the aroma of the earth,

and were firmly planted in the soil.

Goodbye

     The robins left without so much a goodbye. Blink. They were gone. Knacky timing on their part. Jack was preoccupied in the garden, most of the day, hunting a fur pellet. He nearly succeeded, save mercy. They did not fail to take advantage of his preoccupations. Smart little things. Robins.