Our weather has been warm.
Temporarily I hope.
The recent snow and ice melted rapidly.
Everything is wet.
My favorite puddle in the Metro parking garage?
She had plenty of playmates.
There was more puddle than dry pavement.
The usual creek has formed diagonally across our backyard. It streams from northwest to southeast, flows near the porch door and toward the woodpile.
The dogs can't help but walk through it.
Muddy dog feet are a nuisance.
We can't help but walk through it.
Muddy shoes are a nuisance, too.
Long ago, that "creek" was dubbed the River Ines (rhymes with Your Highness). We didn't name it but that's what pops into my head when it seasonally forms. I know others who remember it too.
It's nothing personal, Ines. You know I love ya, babe. But your river has got to go. Even after it dries up, we'll remember it and the woman for whom it was named. Memories are in every nook and cranny of this property. It is not uncommon for me to think of you when I walk through our dining room, my mind's eye seeing you seated at the head of the table, a cup of coffee at your elbow, your books and papers strewn across the tabletop.
Huh. I started out with the intention of writing about our need for backyard drainage. My fingers carried me to an entirely different place.
I believe the saying "No one ever truly dies as long as someone remembers them." Memories kick in at odd times. Like now. When my shoes got muddy.
We've got interesting ghosts kicking around our home.
I'm glad they don't snore.
.
Temporarily I hope.
The recent snow and ice melted rapidly.
Everything is wet.
My favorite puddle in the Metro parking garage?
She had plenty of playmates.
There was more puddle than dry pavement.
The usual creek has formed diagonally across our backyard. It streams from northwest to southeast, flows near the porch door and toward the woodpile.
The dogs can't help but walk through it.
Muddy dog feet are a nuisance.
We can't help but walk through it.
Muddy shoes are a nuisance, too.
Long ago, that "creek" was dubbed the River Ines (rhymes with Your Highness). We didn't name it but that's what pops into my head when it seasonally forms. I know others who remember it too.
It's nothing personal, Ines. You know I love ya, babe. But your river has got to go. Even after it dries up, we'll remember it and the woman for whom it was named. Memories are in every nook and cranny of this property. It is not uncommon for me to think of you when I walk through our dining room, my mind's eye seeing you seated at the head of the table, a cup of coffee at your elbow, your books and papers strewn across the tabletop.
Huh. I started out with the intention of writing about our need for backyard drainage. My fingers carried me to an entirely different place.
I believe the saying "No one ever truly dies as long as someone remembers them." Memories kick in at odd times. Like now. When my shoes got muddy.
We've got interesting ghosts kicking around our home.
I'm glad they don't snore.
7 comments:
We have a lake in our backyard. We haven't named our lake. I suppose we should. The ghosts in our house make the dogs bark.
Hey, you have an interesting blog! Very blunt and poetic.
I'm not some random stalker, by the way; I just found this place and thought your blog was pretty cool. Something about your life is utterly fascinating.
But don't you all over there have "mudrooms" especially for the purpose of shedding muddy shoes before entering the house?
We've got a creek that rises & overflows to where the yard is a swamp. If the sum pumps stop, we're screwed.
As for ghosts, I can always tell/feel them when I'm in a house that has them! Doris thinks this means I'm nuts.
well i want pictures...and to see a plan for the backyard renovations.
maybe the ghosts can help grade the yard.
there are no ghosts here in this house of mine... which is a good thing... I plan to imprint heavily so that I will remain here long after I am gone... let the next buyers beware of the dramatic lesbian spector haunting their home...
bwahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!
sounds like my place.everything is wet and muddy.
we live on what i loosely call a hobby farm. the snow is almost gone except for the piles left over from plowing. all the snow has turned into water that is not sipping into the ground, because it is still frozen
it has rained for days, and more is in the forecast
we have 4 dogs that are in and out bringing the mud with them. On top of that 3 of them are shedding winter coats, so there is clumps of hair all over. i like to wear black and i always go out with dog hair on me. i keep a cloths brush in the truck with me.
i also have horses. going out in their pasture is interesting. it is like a giant swamp. no wonder the horses stay in their loafing shed. although the younger ones were out running the other day.
every year i wonder why i do this, try to keep up with all the cleaning up, and all i can come up with is either I'm crazy or a total animal lover. which is ok. when it finally dries up and everything turns emerald green, i forget all about the mess.
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