Monday, July 4, 2011

Hey Babe

Hey Babe,

I always said when you were around it was never dull or boring.

Good rain tonight. Lots of thunder beating any fireworks that could be imagined.

The yard is good. I'm letting it do whatever it wants to do so it is green and lush and shady. We had a storm last night but Puppywoods stood it's ground. On my bike ride this morning I noticed some branches down but I note the trees who are getting very old, like me.

Speaking of the yard, the critters are doing great. You got me providing them a daily meal of blueberries and peanuts and bird seed. I can't help but give them the treats and watch them enjoy the yard in peace. The pond is holding up but the fish died. I don't know what happened, but one day they all left. I'm keeping the pump going and the water is clear. The reflection on the trees and the sound of the splash makes it worth going.

You would have been proud of me. One of my projects was to fill the garden in the back, so I ordered 40 bags of dirt and 20 bales of mulch. Had to get a new account from Lowes but got that all figured out after a long discussion with a customer service person that said you had to bring in your death certificate. Unfortunately, I tried too hard and carried too much and hurt my back again. It's getting better, but I should have known better.

Bunny is enjoy the yard and has grown a taste for blueberries. She also likes to relax under the hollies and stretches out and sleeps as I walk past. Beau-Beau should be proud. There are a gazillion kids in the yard being vacuum cleaners.

I've learned a lot from what you created. Oh, by the way, did I tell you I sit on the front porch and watch the rain. Not so much for the water coming down on the new roof, but the shadows of the trees and weaving light.

I also am starting to understand the life alone. I tried to give you space and time and toys to play with but now understand that can be more than most of us can comprehend.

The soap operas are going off the air. That would have probably done you in, and I start to understand as I start watching a one o'clock soap before lunch. The characters are silly and predictable and the plot is very, very slow, but I can see how one can get captured in it. They were your only friends.

I don't watch much TV anymore. I check the internet news then turn it off. Not much contact with anyone else. A few brief dinners or drinks and then a lot of silence. Not even much music, just NPR at night.

The willow that you liked when we went up to the 7-11 is gone. It was there one day and then the next, it was gone. And there are new neighbors behind me. Don't see them much, just like I don't see most people in the neighborhood. Just a wave or a "Hey" and I pass by.

So I've put a new roof on the house, new windows upstairs, and heat. A new gas furnace put in by the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges. It was a strange week. Also had the house lifted up and re-enforced on the sag that was scaring me. The holes in the walls are filled and there is new plumbing. The power out to the Mansland has been replaced and is working fine.

But, I've hit the wall with projects to be done. I can't seem to find the motivation to move on.

I've been good about making a to-do list and checking things off, but I've gone off road. I've got the tools and the money to do more, but can't seem to make the move. This month will be the test to see if I can shake it off.

Taken a couple adventures off road, but you set a pretty high standard. The rings are all together in the silver box. And I adjust your heart every morning.

I'm amazed by the things you did in our brief time together. I hope I gave you the space and resources to expand your ideas. Sorry I couldn't give more.

Back to the dull and boring.


Art said...

We give all we can give. This shows that you gave the most... your heart. Well written, good sir.

TripleG said...

We know July 4 has a heavy meaning for you. Time does seem to smooth things out.

Jim said...

I agree with gave her the best gift: you and your kind, generous heart. Burd