October 13, 2011

A Diary By Any Other Name....

Buddy lies sleeping flat in the dirt bed next to the concrete patio. He's a sublime dog full of aspirations and hidden demons. He will smilingly hold forth in the backseat of the car one moment and in the next bark ferociously at an innocent biker or walker. There is no rhyme or reason to his irrational hatreds; some humans pass inspection, others are apparently worth getting exercised over. My parents' dog has a hair-trigger bark induced by any event outside the house. In fact, she barked over nothing I could see. Perhaps a ghost.

An extraordinarily good weather weekend last weekend still resonates in memory if not in fact: 80 degree high and cloudless. We spent Saturday well, biking through downtown Hamilton past the old Hamiltonian (now a Marriott hotel), down Dayton Street with its Victorian mansions, down a twisting 9th avenue full of atmospherics (as my brother said, "nothing says Hamilton like a homemade sign announcing pitbull pups for sale"), and then finally to the cemetery where so many relatives lay buried.

After the bike ride last Saturday there was nothing better than that first taste of Warsteiner Dunkel. I could've drank it like I did root beer or lemonade back in the '70s: in one big gulp. It's amazing how thirst-quenching beer can be. Usually I drink it with little thirst, unlike Bill Luse who drinks it after completing grass-cutting chores on hot Orlando days.


To tune "Thank Heaven for Little Girls":
Thank heaven for all my books
the list of them gets bigger every day!

Thank heaven for all my books
I read them in the most delightful way!

Those little tomes so helpless and appealing
one day will weigh so much to crash right thru the ceilin'!

Thank heaven for all my books
thank heaven for them all,
no matter which no matter who
for without them, what would little me do?

Thank heaven... thank heaven...
Thank heaven for all my books!
Succumbed to buying "Boomerang" by Michael Lewis on the financial crisis in the first world simply because I can't put down anything he writes. And began Amy Welborn's tragic story of her husband's death and subsequent travel to Italy. Not sure about Fr. Robert Barron's "Catholicism" since it appears to go over mostly familiar ground.


William Luse said...

unlike Bill Luse who drinks it after completing grass-cutting chores on hot Orlando days.

Alas, temps only in the 80's now, so I have to cut twice as much grass. I've also had to take up jogging again.

TS said...

I just wish I weighed what you do!