For Her Birthday

Her Nana stepped outside, and alone in silence, watched as the sun slipped into darkness across this wide river.

I left her to it. Some certain heartaches must be dealt within the empty expanse of ones soul.

Stephen

At Three In The Morning

Not even Anthony Bourdain holds my interest. If not for the noise I'd sneak into the garage and return to my current restoration project, but it wouldn't be fair to my wife as she sleeps the sleep of the innocent.

Perhaps I should take coffee cup in hand and stroll the neighborhood, amble down to the river and listen to the wind. Then again, I should take care of the first of the month bills; sit and write checks, balance the accounts. After all, it's either tackle the task here or later at my office.

A few minutes ago I even contemplated my old Marlin and a magazine filled with .22 CB caps. I thought why not sneak out and place a target on the back fence then ease a chair out to the edge of the deck. I have night vision equipment and shots towards the river are safe silent gunnie therapy.

My eyes burn. Think I'll just take that walk.

By the way, Anthony Bourdain is a wuss.

Stephen

Bits & Pieces

Beautiful day here....warm, light winds. Tropical storm dinking around out in the Gulf. As with all things in life if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans. We have a long weekend planned at Cedar Key. We leave tomorrow morning. What the heck, rainy days make for fine reading.

Tomorrow is Sweet Wife's birthday. She'll be twenty-five. (I bet she smiles if she reads this post.) Anyhow, a few days later we celebrate our anniversary. This weekend is my gift to her. She needs a break from her routine. It's been a rough year and her tears have left tracks on her cheeks which will take years erase.

I will post from Cedar Key between nap sessions. It'll be the first trip in many years without our Little Bit. She'll be missed.

******

Last weekend I joined my friends for a day out at our Boar's Nest. Spent some time on the range. The little (and very heavy) Detonics Pocket 9 functioned flawlessly. I'd been told she would have an awful recoil, a hurt your hand kick. Bullhockey. Her weight absorbed and she fired like a dream. I like her. She'll now replace my backup carry piece in my satchel.

I did order a spare magazine for her which are as rare as hen's teeth. Took me a while to find one but finally came across a little shop out in Kalifornia. Place called Gunclip Depot.. The final tally was a wee bit over forty dollars. Hate it when people refer to a magazine as a 'clip.' If you think you're a member of the gun culture and walk around calling a magazine a 'clip,' go buy a pair of clogs and walk a poodle......

I also wrung out my new to me Para P-12 .45. Again, flawless performance and quite accurate. Not a single hiccup.  Well worth the money paid. I love a good gun deal.

Isn't she pretty....

*****

A few days ago my good friend, Duke, came by the shop and gave me a gift of a bag of his fresh homegrown tomatoes. Most of the bag held yellow tomatoes. Sweet, with a sharp fresh acid taste....remember the tomatoes your grandparents grew in their backyards...yeah, that kind. I took the yellow tomatoes and made a big salad last evening. So good. Thanks, Bubba.

I still have a few left over and hope to pack them down to Cedar Key. They're too good to waste and I'm the kind of fella that enjoys a good tomato with nothing more than a shaker of salt.

*****

Business is slow this morning. Excuse me while I jerk another cup of coffee.

*****

I took a walk this morning. Must have been around three. I have many sleepless nights of late. Anyhow, I eased down to the river and walked out to the edge of my neighbors dock and listened to the crickets and a school of mullet flip and flop from the water. I stood there, hands in pockets, for close to twenty minutes then slowly walked back and took a seat on our front porch and listened to an old owl sing a haunted song until the light of dawn.

When you hear of people speak of lonely it's not easy to relate. I believe I understand, now. Sometimes lonely hasn't a cure. It can become a permanent part of ones life. As of yesterday I'm sure my loneliness became fixed, branded on my soul.

Within the next few weeks I shall make a decision. Is life worth living without a heart....or should I simply thank God for what I have and toughen my soul with the loss and plug forward empty of happiness.

I'm weary.

P.S., Sweet Wife will be 'over' fifty tomorrow. The twenty-five was a joke....

Stephen