Tuesday, January 30, 2018

For 10 Minutes, They Said

Hmmm, I read somewhere that if you aspire to be a writer, you should write for 10 minutes every day, even if you have nothing to say.  I'm thinking this might be one of those 10 minutes of gibberish posts. 

Remember when you were little and your mother told you things?  Words of wisdom, and the like.  Remember this one:

If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all.

With that in mind, I will not be talking about work tonight, because if I did, I couldn't say anything nice, and too many bosses read my blog anyway, and if I said what I really wanted to, I'd probably end up getting fired.  We'll just leave it at it wasn't pretty and talk about more pleasant things, like my cat's poop.

In regards to that, there is good news and bad news.  The bad news is, she's still straining a bit.  The good news is, she seems to be going more frequently, and isn't dribbling as much blood afterwards as she used to.  It seems things are moving in the right direction.  Get it?  "Moving"  Ok, then, never mind.

The most exciting thing I did all day -- outside of work, which I'm not going to talk about-- is to pull the rest of my painter's tape off my living room walls.  Maybe this weekend I can get the trim painted.  Oh, wait, I volunteered to go to that place I'm not talking about tonight.  Every day.  Sunday, too.




Eh, it'll get done eventually.

Oh, here's something I can tell you about.  I'd meant to post things about my trip to Texas, but when I got back, I was so overwhelmed with homesickness I never got around to it.  Now that I'm a bit stronger, I can start talking about things.  Things like this:

These are my cousins' cattle.


Back when Harvey hit, they stood in water for over a week.  Even after the flood waters receded, their pasture was pretty much ruined.  It's starting to recover a bit, but the cousins are still supplementing them with hay.  Every day, James and I -- and Cody if he wasn't working -- would go out and give them a couple of bales of hay.

I think I found my dream job.  I love feeding livestock.  Even before I went into the Navy, I'd feed the chickens, or my uncle's goats, cattle, or whatever he had.  I could do that all day -- just going around feeding cattle for people...I told James if I lived there, I'd take over that job, just like I took over feeding the chickens all those years ago.

One day, after feeding, we had returned to the house, and I was standing in the car port just watching the woods.  Cousin Will drove by.

Now, Will is a distant cousin of mine, being a Winfree and all, but he is closer to Beverly on her dad's side.  Will's grandmother is Beverly's father's sister.  He's the one that got them out when they were flooded by the storm.

So anyway, I was standing in the carport watching the woods, when Will drove by.  He owns the pasture behind Beverly and James'.   He was towing a trailer with a half grown horse in it.  About that time, James walked up behind me.  "Who is that?" he asked.

"Little Will," I said.  "...And I'm just watching him like he's TV."

We watched him a few more minutes as he put his horse in the pasture. I said, "Actually, this is better than TV."  And I should probably quit calling him Little Will, since he's getting close to 50.

OK, that's about 10 minutes, and I can't think of anything else anyway, and I'm ready to go to bed.  So that's it for tonight.

Goodnight.

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