I wish I’d had the presence of mind early this morning to pick up my phone and get a video of our Redneck Malinois. She was sitting on the back of the couch, in front of an open window, channeling her inner dingo.
Over and over, Miss Smudge would throw her head back and, like her ancestors, howl with gusto. This morning she was singing along with our resident coyotes.
By god, she knows who she is.
With Deb off to work, I broke out the Ranger, loaded it with combustibles and did a burn. While I was on the lower level I walked (for the first time) the area where I’d sown grass seed. (It looks great.)
Then I grabbed my coffee tumbler and drove down to the end of the road to see if the neighbor was out. (He wasn’t.) On my way back up The Mountain, I veered onto the cut to the summit and parked just above Dancing Tree.
That’s where I had my morning coffee.
The cicadas’ calls weren’t quite as loud up there. I noticed, too, that the sound was coming only from the west and south — not so much as a peep from east toward the summit or north. I found that odd.
As I looked around, I spotted a couple of small “leaners,” standing-dead trees that weren’t standing anymore but hadn’t fallen to the ground. I wasn’t up there to work, necessarily, but I got my pruning saw out of the bed of the buggy and took them down. I came away with about 35 feet of hardwood trunks, from two inches to four inches in diameter.
I’ll bring a chainsaw up at some point and buck it, then stack it at Dancing Tree. That’s where I plan to build our third fire ring.
I’d noticed earlier that several hardwood branches and saplings had intruded on the trail since spring. I stopped on my way down and cut those back.
By the time a light rain began falling, I was back inside the camper with the dogs.
Excuses are lethal. If you’re a breathing adult who’s worth a damn, you know this, even if it took you a while to figure it out. Making excuses for one’s own actions — and refusing to accept responsibility for them — is crippling.
But again, you know all that.
So why do you keep making excuses for the people in your life?
He had a rough childhood. She was in an abusive relationship. He’s under a lot of pressure. She’s still only a kid. They come from a different culture. This generation does things differently. She has health issues. He doesn’t know any better.
And worst of all — not counting PMS, of course — He means well.
Maybe you’ve been seduced by all that trendy “kindness” bullshit. Or maybe you’re paying back, in some misguided way, the people who cut you a break when you were full of excuses.
Whatever your reason (or your excuse), it’s a load of crap and an awful way to live. Stop it.
As long as you hold yourself to a no-excuses standard, you’re justified in holding others to the same standard. If you don’t, you’ll end up surrounded by weak and dishonest people who’ll take advantage of your misplaced “kindness” at every turn.
That train of thought has banged around in my head for weeks. Another brainworm that I probably oughta exorcise is the whole concept of “relevance” — specifically, the pursuit of “a life that’s relevant.”
It’s an obsession that can manifest at any age, but it tends to be more common among those of us who are closer to the end than to the beginning. As we age, and the longer we live, the more we think about our “legacy.”
It’d be nice, I guess, to be remembered fondly once my run is over. I won’t know, one way or another, though, so I don’t spend time worrying about chasing a flattering epitaph.
Anyway, last I checked, I can’t determine my own relevance. That’s for others to decide. Ditto the elusive thing known as legacy.
All I can control is what I do while I’m alive. I’m in charge of my choices and my actions. That’s it. Let the chips fall.
I suppose I could try to engineer my legacy. I could strive to manufacture “a life that’s relevant” — essentially marketing myself to those who’ll remain after I’m gone. Am I the only one who thinks that’s just a little bit precious?
Let’s reel this in, then, and recognize that relevance begins (and often ends) close to home. No grand scheme designed to establish a “lasting legacy” can replace living a righteous life here and now.
Principle. Integrity. Skills. Knowledge. A solid work ethic. Generosity, consistent with values and within means. Goodness. Commitment to Liberty.
Absent from that list are things like friends, family, wealth, success (as popularly defined), and circumstances. All of those are downstream from meaningful relevance.
The more attention we pay to what’s in front of us, things we can control, the more relevant we are.
For my part, I’ll keep doin’ what I’m doin’. I don’t much care how others perceive me now, and I sure as hell don’t care what they’ll think of me when I’m gone.
My legacy, whatever that is, will take care of itself.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB