Thinking I may have to step outside.
That howling wind along with the sub zero temps, chills the bones
In the cozy old house the Maple is working hard to keep the place comfortable. Can’t even take the wheels and go anywhere for fear of relaxing in a ditch praying for the Rescue God.
My mate is snuggled under a ton of blankets, trying to stay warm in my absence.
The dishes look so comfortable in their drying rack, with not a care in the world.
A malamute, 120 lbs named Kinley is stretched out on a carpet, so relaxed not even a deer leg would bring her to life.
The piano in the living room lies in silent wait, it cares less what’s going on outside. Its players have scattered far and wide. Oh but upon their arrival, it will come back to life, providing fun and entertainment, a time to sit back and enjoy a beer or two celebrating their return.
As the moon casts a bright glow across the frozen snow fields, cold as it is.
It won’t be long and that white stuff will do its duty and give a drink to the warm thirsty fields.
Let the Maple continue to do its work, smoke rising silently up the chimney, into the bitter cold, its so nice and warm in the old house.
Oh at this late evening, I feel the quiet silent lonesome call.
Indeed, my Mate needs my presence.
B.S.
Schaffer Quips 