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The Tattered Glory of August

August is one of my favorite times. It’s hot, but there might be the odd fresh morning that lets you know autumn is around the bend.

My running route is packed with summer. Over the past two weeks, all of these signs have begun to fray, and beautifully so. There are late blackberries, some scorched and some still plump.

Some are still sour. We’ve got a good long season here.

Among the thorns, I heard a rustle. She was hung up by her foot. When I let her go, she flew to the little creek immediately– thirsty but okay.

Along the way, the true glory of August is on display. It’s easy to run and be cheerful despite the heat. (Full disclosure: I LOVE running in the heat. Unsure why, but it feels better, like hot yoga provided by Mother Nature)

Everywhere I looked, flowers. Some people call them weeds, but that’s not true.

Things are past their peak, but still radiant. The colors are stunning, and there’s a desperate quality to the lower leaves on all the plants. They’re sun-scorched but defiant, pushing up blooms that are visible at a distance. Summer beauty is persistent.

The goldenrod and purple glory is just starting. Up next: September, when we start thinking cozy thoughts.

Off to run. Hope your neighborhood is filled with color, too.

Cheers,

Terry

The Birthday Donkey Whisperer

Seven Years Ago, I Became A Dad.

My bride and I brought a relatively normal sized infant into the world. He’s growing at an alarming rate, due in part to the height on both sides of the family. Missy comes from a long line of Vikings. I come from a long line of angry American mutts- all quite tall. It’s a genetic match made in heaven if your goal in life is to produce a child who will never need a stepladder to change light bulbs. This is the boy:

The Post-Apocalyptic landscape is our backyard in the glory of “Spring”, a mythical season that’s actually just a period of mud followed by storm warnings, hail, and then the heat of summer. The boy is lounging, being tall. That’s what he does.

We Had A Birthday Party.
He turned seven. We ate a lot of birthday food, had fun, and rode around in a train that we hired for the afternoon. It was delightful. Here we are in our Official Land’s End Camouflage. We like stripes:

 It was held at my Mother-in-Law‘s home; she has more room and less barking dogs. Her backyard is adjacent to a pasture, where there are friendly horses and a donkey whom we’ve known for more than a decade.
This is the donkey:

I must confess: I don’t know a lot of donkeys, but this guy seems to be an absolute gem. He’s not stubborn at all. He’s friendly, fuzzy, generally cheerful, and seems to be willing to charge across any amount of open pasture to answer my bride’s call. She is. . . the Donkey Whisperer. Don’t get me wrong; all animals love her. But this donkey obeys, and he gives the impression of tail-wagging, even though that’s more a dog thing.

He’s besotted with her. Me too, but I get to live inside. And wear pants.

There are an array of horses, too– quite friendly, a bit quirky, as horses are, and fun for the son to feed.

Handsome fellow. Again, I confess to not knowing a great deal about horses unless they are French War Horses, or some other variety used throughout the Middle Ages/Renaissance. That’s more my area, but these guys are dandy. They put the frosting on the party, so to speak.

That concludes the farm report. New audiobook is out this week, it’s fantastic (Thank you Rebecca Cook!). All three current books are chugging along beautifully. I’ve got a zombie short story on Amazon, too– fun for a quick read.
Find everything here: Terry’s Dragons and Zombies and Critters. Oh my.
 If you like audiobooks and want a review copy, let me know. I’ve got a few to give away.

Until next time. Cheers!