Inside The Gazebo

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Location: Central Michigan, United States

Spent a long career making lots of money for other people. Now it's my turn. _____________________________ Email:

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Jealous Muse

I see the people pass me by. I watch them move along, leaving me behind to be alone. I hear pieces of their conversation and laughter...but only pieces. I am in private conversation with my muse.

The people go to ballgames, picnics, the dance, movies and the bar. Along their way the people will think of what all they'll enjoy today.

I go to a small room with pad and pen as my friends. I think of what I might write today. Alone.

The people go and do their work. They make things for other people, they make money for themselves. With colleagues they will talk of politics, family, and last night's game. They will bicker with each other, and they will bitch about the boss. I watch them move along, leaving me behind,

I am the captive of a jealous Muse.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Some Afternoon Delight

I must be gone all of next week as well. I'll be back on Monday the 29th.
To experiment in the interim, though, I'll try my hand at a tiny bit Maybe a good idea, maybe a bad idea.

Your panty,
move it aside.
I'll taste you,
hurl you up to the summit;
tingling, trembling.
I'll move you across the high plateau,
urge you over the far ledge;
shuddering, laughing.
I'll lower you slowly, gently,
I'll delight you,
in the afternoon.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

I'll be away

and may not post on my blog again until sometime during the week beginning May 22.

I'll likely find opportunity to cruise among yours, though.


Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Bug Tails - "Bug Walk"

Bug and I began our morning walk by leaving the house and hurrying over to our favorite tree; the old maple tree which stands near the corner of the garage. Bug cocked his leg at the tree. I didn't cock mine. Whew, it was a long and welcomed first of the morning pee for the both of us. I think Bug finished first, by a squirt or two.

Daylight hadn't quite arrived. It was the grey time of morning when the moon plants itself on one end of mother earth and the sun hasn't yet peeked up from the opposite end of the world.

Making our way down the driveway, Bug's buddy, a big fat squirrel, waited at its usual spot until Bug eyeballed it. Bug saw his friend, barked two or three times then catapulted off in Squirrel's direction. Squirrel waited the appropriate amount of time, and then scurried over to the big oak tree on the other side of the driveway with Bug in hot pursuit. Squirrel ran up the tree about ten feet, turned around to face down the tree's trunk, and began his chattering mockery of Bug's again futile efforts. Bug can't climb trees, but by god it looked like he was determined to learn.

I called the dog over to me and we continued on our way.

The sky was becoming brighter as we walked north on the gravel road. I could see just a hint of orange color on the horizon off to the east.

It was a quiet morning and I noticed the sound of my footsteps as they crunch-crunched on the dirt and gravel stones of the road. Bug's footsteps were more of a skittle-skittle sound.

I heard the flock of wild geese that rested on the waters of the lake as they began their morning wake-up calls of assembly to each other.

We poked along on our morning walk and Bug continued to cock his leg against any object that struck his fancy for his territorial marking duties. I wondered how it is he can continue to generate enough new urine for marking purposes; especially after such a lengthy piss at the maple tree only half an hour before.

The birds flew from their roosts ahead of us and the sun now played peek-a-boo at the horizon.

A maple leaf of last year flittered across the road, pushed by a gentle morning breeze. Bug pounced and trapped it with his front paws.

A little further along we flushed a pair of partridge and they exploded from the edge of the woods that hug the side of the road on which we walk. I'm not sure which jumped the highest, me or Bug. The dog, of course, chased after the pair of partridge for a bit while I continued walking north on the road between the two stands of woods.

During our return trip to the house, Bug found laying in the weeds a discarded and empty plastic water bottle. He fetched the bottle then had great fun scooting it along the road with his nose and paws. I had great fun watching him play.

After about a hundred yards of fiddling with the bottle, Bug abandoned his new toy to scuttle down into the shallow ditch along the side of the road. He circled three or four times, humped his back, and finished his morning toilet. The smell of it reminded me to ask my wife not to give refrigerator leftovers to Bug in the late evening.

Arriving back at the house, a good morning walk behind us and the sun's belt buckle now at the horizon, we went inside. I headed for the bathroom to shave then take my morning shower. Bug went to his food and water bowls for a drink and a bite to eat. He had worked hard this morning.