Father's Day

I have not been the best company lately, that's for sure. In one blessed heart-beat, I would have a For Sale sign out on the front lawn here. I cannot see myself living in this big old house until my last day on this planet, which could come sooner than one thinks given the number of scorpions and snakes that have been around lately. Not to mention the bitterness that sweeps over me every time I bring Savannah outside into the yard and see her shaking with fear when she looks over at the road.

When Savannah goes outside in the morning, she is the happiest of dogs... her tail is up and she walks easily around the grass without a care in the world. Her afternoon walk is just the same. However... it's the after-dinner walk that's heart-breaking. I am certain that Savannah remembers that night when she bolted and ran off because of the neighbor's fireworks. And no matter how charitable I can feel towards that neighbor during the daylight hours, all of the badness comes up to the surface when I see what Savannah goes through just to be outside before it gets dark.  I sound like a broken record with this, and no one knows that better than me. As I said, I've not been the best of company, not even for myself.

I've been searching for book editors, and doing research on 'query' letters. I have written out such a letter in long-hand, correcting and changing it, putting it aside and once again editing it.  I think I have found an editor that would understand and appreciate a story about a puppy written in diary format, with many entries written by the puppy herself.

Our illustrious handyman has been here for a couple of weeks, washing the house and removing bird nests that are no longer being used by the barn swallows. It's the nests that were attracting the snakes to our porch, I'm sure, and heaven only knows how many birds the snakes got in the middle of the night. My husband has killed four snakes in the past two weeks... our friend Cindy has killed five (hers were copperheads, our were chicken snakes). In my opinion, any snake is a bad thing, and not to be spared. I'd rather have field mice running around the property than the blasted snakes.

Life should be getting easier, not harder. Life isn't easy out here in the hills. Too many insects and critters, too many predators, way too much wildlife, not enough really good restaurants and bookstores, not one good shoe store (although there's no place to wear pretty shoes out here anyway unless you stay in the house), and no museums to speak of.  And that's about what I've been doing. Staying in the house, mostly. I'm reading a lot, and keeping my very bad attitude all to myself.

And today was Father's Day. I looked at old photos of my dad. And I tried to hear his voice in my mind. That's getting harder and harder as the years go by. Maybe daddy doesn't like the Hill Country either.