DAY OF REST

Today is a Sunday. Traditionally, Sunday is a day of rest. So of course I’ve prepped and am cooking a 15-pound brisket, I’ve watered the garden and the flowers on the patio, I’ve picked up the dog poop in the back yard, always a fun time, and started on the laundry. All very restful. Friday I had tweaked my knee pretty good, so I’ve been trying to protect it while I’m working.

At least now I can spend some time writing. I’m enjoying my new gazebo, watching Alchemy of Souls on Netflix, and listening to birdsong. I’ve got a fan going, so it’s nice and cool, even though it’s 80 degrees out. Thank God for technology!

I have determined, after much observation, that sparrows are assholes. They remind me of the Compsognathus, the tiny dinosaurs from Jurassic Park and Jurassic World. They operate in a pack. I fill two bird feeders, and the little bastards will empty the feeders out in one day. They are aggressive little jerks that chase off other birds.

I have been visited by Indigo Buntings, Cardinals, Goldfinches, Flickers, Red-Headed Woodpeckers, Red-Wing Blackbirds, Robins, even an Eastern Bluebird, all chased off by the frickin sparrows. At least they don’t chase off the hummingbirds, which have finally reappeared. Damn compies.

The other thing I get to do is watch my grandsons play. Have you ever read the book Lord of the Flies? Roman and Stevie are Jack and Roger. I love these boys, but they are definitely Chaos incarnate. It’s like they are human versions of the sparrows. At least at times. At one moment, they’re running around the back yard, screaming like banshees and brandishing sticks like they were extras in Pirates in the Caribbean. The next, Roman is teaching Stevie how to ride a bicycle, or Stevie is concerned about Roman getting the same treats he got when I took Stevie to Lowes on Friday. It’s like the Sour Patch candies. First they’re sour, then they’re sweet. I’ll let them live, for now.

Then there are my dogs, Yuki and Rowdy. Mutt and Jeff. Either running around the yard like a couple of furry idiots, or napping. No in-between for those two. Full-speed, or no-speed. We adopted Rowdy when Maw passed in 2020. We’ve had Yuki since 2015. They actually get sad when we take one to the groomer’s or to the vet without the other one. Big (and little!) dorks. When I worked from home, they would be hard at work with me in the office, sleeping. When I got off work, they would go into the living room with me and lay down and sleep some more. When I went to bed, they would get up, go to the bedroom with me, and go to sleep. At least now they’re running around a bit.

But not me, I’m resting. And I’m about to go rest myself some of that brisket I’ve been slow cooking all day.

And with that, your Honor, I rest my case.