Monday, June 27, 2011
Going to the dog park right before dinner on a Monday takes about thirty or so minutes from my house. The walk to the lake where the dogs swim, roughly ten. Hannah, my daughter comes too and we always talk to the passing dogs while their wary owners glare at us without smiles. I always feel like a stalker going to the park especially since we don't bring a dog, but it's fun to watch them run and chase each other in the water. Eventually, the owners warm up to us and engage in small talk, not much, but this place is everyone's quite spot. An inexpensive getaway that melts a day's stress in seconds. Today the sun sat on the water, sending a beam of blinding light to our faces. Maybe we should have waited another hour to come here but just when I snuggled my body into a perfect crevice on the rocks, closing my eyes to the sounds of happy splashing, it happened! The sneak from behind lick in the ear surprise. I was loved twice, by a white German Shepard mix with black tipped ears. The love was contagious, more dogs circled us for kisses. Show offs~ trying to outrun the others to the water and back to us. We were escorted up the steep hill to our car by Trinket, a nine year old Beagle who walked like a really really old man while his owner tried coaxing him away. Weren't we special? Then I saw Trinket from the car's mirror chasing three younger dogs back down the hill. Out of sight out of mind we were! Oh, to be like a dog. It was a good day.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Ok, fine, she was right, the F word probably isn't allowed on blogger, so the post was deleted. It was during lunch today at an outside vegan restaurant named FUD where I noticed the funny sign staring at me, happily blowing in the wind. God the comedian must have orchestrated the whole darn thing! It read, "Mood Swings". Yes, we have them, especially on summer solstices. With that in mind, I would like another chance...
yes no yes no
yes no yes no
Sunday, June 19, 2011
There used to be a man in the town where I grew up as a child who was stronger than the other men. He had cuts on his fingers from hard work and liked to drink beer and he smelled real nice after his shower. If everybody told him the truth, returned his car on time and avoided smoking cigarettes, he could be rather pleasant and had a witty sense of humor. I was nineteen when I left the town he lived in and got married. He told me it wouldn't last past six months because of my temper but I think he cried a little after he made a wrong turn to the lake instead of the church. Seventy five years have changed him into an old softie. His fingers are bent from years of hard work, the pinky finger curves sideways now. There are days when I worry if he will be able to fend for himself and continue to care for my mother. The once strong man will always be strong in my heart's memory and I am very proud to call this man "Dad".
Dad taught me much about life. It doesn't matter if you broke the thing, but it does matter that you lied about breaking the thing. If you're going to fish, you better learn to bait your own damn hook. Be yourself, don't wear makeup to cover a pretty face. Avoid people who linger in alleys, they're probably hopped up on dope. Good men will always get out of their cars and walk up to your doorstep, otherwise, good riddance. Nobody likes a bellyacher so get over your problems and get a job. Sunsets, fish that bite, and a good mess of green beans with tomatoes are pure gold. Happy Father's day to my dad and all the men who make a difference in our lives.