I’ve been asked more than once if, since finding myself suddenly alone 70 days ago, there’s anything I miss. That’s a perfectly reasonable question, though usually I dodge it or change the subject.
I’ll answer it now.
The answer is yes.
I don’t like dining out alone. I did that for many years when traveling on business, and it’s never been my favorite thing. Sure, I could grab carryout from Carolyn’s or whatever, but that burger or pulled-pork sandwich doesn’t come with the hospitality I so enjoy.
My financial belt-tightening dictates that I curtail “entertainment” expenses anyway. When I do have a few extra bucks, though, I’ll definitely be back at Crooked Creek Pub for a beer — something about sitting alone at a bar feels just right.
So I miss having built-in, automatic company for dining out.
That’s all I can think of right now.
Life goes on.
I know better than to try taking a picture of the night sky with my phone. Oh, the Samsung camera is plenty capable, and I understand the elements of photography well enough. I simply don’t have the patience for it.
And yet at 5am this morning, there was that moon, that brilliant full moon hanging in the black sky to the southwest. I wanted to preserve the moment, even if the result sucked.
And so I braced my phone against the camper and banged off a couple of shots. You wouldn’t know by looking at the images that I have over five decades of photography under my belt.
Trust me, it was a beautiful sight.
On the social-media front, things have simmered down. It’s been two or three days since I’ve had to squash anything.
I appreciate that readers and friends are, for the most part, respecting my wish not to be fed information about what’s happening out of my sight. A virtual wall stands between me and whatever gnashing or thrashing is going on over there, and I’m delighted to be on this side of that wall.
Maybe I’ll come to regret later not gathering intel now, when it’s offered to me. And I suppose I wouldn’t turn down specific insights into tactics and strategy meant to (in the words of a mutual friend) “gut [me] like a fish.”
But again, I live here and I live now. My sincere thanks to everyone hanging out with me on this side of the wall.
Miss Smudge has been transformed over the last couple of months. Always her daddy’s girl, my happy Heeler has become even more adoring and affectionate.
My girl Scout is wobbly but content. She’s still as sweet as you’d imagine The Best Dog Ever to be. I carry her outdoors and back inside these days, and she considers every transit an opportunity to snuggle and kiss.
Unconditional love. Genuine loyalty. Dogs know.
I made a trip to the county courthouse this morning, the first of at least two visits this week. The business I have to take care of isn’t pleasant, but the people there are amazingly kind. (Of course they are.)
After that brief stop, I picked up a few items at Harps. Then it was on to the Yellville post office, where I had three — count ’em, three — packages waiting.
Like last week, I wasn’t expecting anything. And as before, I didn’t open the parcels ’til after I was home and had the groceries put away.
You, boys and girls, are about to learn what kind of people I have in my life right now.
Like the dear friend who sent the gift of a sign with a touching message that I’ll hold close to my heart.
Another package held a garden flag that’s perfect for my Ozarkansas home.
The last box contained two items, the first a tin sign that sums up how I measure my days.
And then, the pièce de résistance — what U-Haul took away, a friend restored.
There’s a guardian gnome on The Mountain again. This one’s not brandishing a subgun — the defiant little bugger carries concealed.
I have old friends who’ve stuck with me, and I have new friends that circumstances led into my life. I’ll tell you what — I wouldn’t trade ’em for all the gold the government stole from Fort Knox.
I’m an aging man, a weary man, an imperfect man, a good man. And today, I’m the most fortunate man you know.
Thirty-one days. Thirty-six blog posts. All while living my best life. Seems I’m a changed man, too.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable