Sunday

The weather is cold and clear and I hear the wind and outside a squirrel barks its warning at some stray cat. These tiny sounds equal peace and quiet for me. They're soothing music, how the wind whistles and the clear cold day amplifies natures voice. There, hear that, a train on the far side of the river, its whistle, pushed by the wind, only now reaches me.

I stepped outside a few moments ago to take in the river and found it white capped and my neighbor's boat rocked under the wind from where he has it slung high under his boat shed. His citrus needs to be picked.

This would be a great day to burn a few hundred rounds at the range. Maybe break out my M1A as it's been a while since I've put the old girl through her paces. Then again with the cost of ammunition I'd flinch with each shot and say, "There goes another dollar."

*****

This morning, early, I eased from my dreams with the sound of my wife making preparations for Sunday school and church. I almost climbed from bed to join her. It's cool enough to wear tweed and it's been a while since I attended services with her. I know she'd like the company and indeed worries for my soul but the Good Lord and I still have differences. He is, I'm sure, aware of my respect for his word. Yet, I'm still not ready for the structure of same.

My church is located in the quiet places of His earth. My sweet wife isn't truly aware of the agreement I hold with the Lord. He and I do understand each the other and our agreement is written in blood. His and mine. One day, perhaps.

Now, with the above in mind, I should attend far more frequently if for no other reason than her happiness. When I picture her, alone on the pew, while other families gather together for worship, it pains my heart. I guess I've painted my reluctance in the color of selfish.

*****

I've finally whittled my 'to read' list to under fifty or sixty books. I purchased Monster Hunter Legion early this year and only last night began the novel. Larry Correia is a fine writer. My recommendation isn't worth a gram of salt so I won't waste your time with the same, but I like it. It sure helps kill a few hours.

*****

As I mentioned it's cold out and yet I should still break out my ladder and gloves and blower and climb onto our roof and blow the accumulated pine straw and oak leaves back to ground. The gutters need attention too.

But, you know what, I think I'll build another AR. Speaking of which I ordered a twenty inch fluted upper the 18th. I checked the vendors web site yesterday and its still listed as 'in process,' whatever the heck that means.

The weather gives good excuse to stay inside and fiddle. Then again, I bet when Sweet Wife walks in from the garage she'll make excuses why we should 'go somewhere.' She's like that you know...

Take care.

Stephen
  

Distractions

I find it hard to write when a new book arrives. I ordered Larry Correias' newest novel, 'Monster Hunter Legion,' weeks ago. It arrived yesterday. A nice signed limited edition. It even smells nice.

I ripped open the package and pulled the book out and sat it gently upon my desk and thought - 'what the heck, I'll write tomorrow and read today'. If you want to make God smile....

Anyhow, in between work and dealing with customers I read about six pages.

You know you want it.

*****

When I flipped on the computer this morning I noticed a little window pop open...it screamed at me that several updates (real important security updates) awaited my attention and it insisted I 'click here' and demanded I comply. So, I obeyed.

I sincerely wish I had the patience of my good friend, Rev. Paul, and the technical knowledge of my equally good friend, Borepatch. I hate to randomly download computer updates. I've had so many, shall we say. glitches afterwards it kinda worries me.

I dutifully selected those I felt important and ever so gently hit the fire control button and sat back and waited.

The wee boogers inside my computer whirred and hummed and then flashed, 'hit restart.' I again complied.

As my computer went about its mission I reached over to my old fashioned Rolodex and flipped the pages to the number of my computer repair guy - just in case. I then pulled my .45 and waited. I've always wanted to shoot a computer and I'd felt this morning I might just get lucky and have a shot.

Another window opened and green bars whizzed back and forth. Then, nada.

Not a single problem. Sigh. Holstered my weapon. 

Maybe next time.

*****

Last evening, late, Sweet Wife turned to me and asked, "Are we still grandparents?" 

She was seated at the kitchen table. She had her business laptop open and papers stacked knee deep. I walked over and began to gently rub her shoulders. She lowered her head and did one of those moans as women tend to do under massage. Outside, on our deck, three raccoons took turns feeding from our cat's bowl.

"Well, are we?"

How was I to answer.

Me, "Yes, Honey, you'll always be a grandmother."

Her, "When?"

I answered, "Honey, I really don't know. We must be patient."

She turned, reached and took my hand and laid her cheek upon it. Her face was warm and wet and small shudders, spasms almost, ran through her body. I bent and kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Please, please, don't cry. Find a distraction, a hobby besides work, and hide your sorrow and try and forget. Please."

I worked my thumbs lower and applied pressure to her back. Small tears continued to roll down her face and my soul cried too.

Then, "Have you found your distraction? Have you forgotten our grandchildren?"  Anger, just under the surface.

"No, I'll never forget them. And, she is always on my mind. I can't walk through my life and not find a memory of her. She surrounds me. But, I function."

Silence. I waited. I listened as my old tide clock ticked and marked the hours until the next tide event. The raccoons continued to eat. She sniffed. 

"I'll never forget," she said.

 I gave her another kiss and as I walked away, said, "And neither will I."

Stephen