Under no obligation to share
Rarely have I felt so important. Or watched. Trying to cook and eat a good steak while under the supervision of two dogs; every move 9on my part) weighed and commented on (by them). A small dog can implore.
With less life lived, I’d probably feel an obligation to share. Now; not so much. When was the last time that either of the furry spectators shared food with me? Even a chair will only be shared until the dog figures he can claim all available space. Forget steak!
The family has a collective memory of one camping trip. When the “huge, hairy biker” appeared at our table, we were worried. When he offered steak “for the dog”, we knew that our role in the extended pack was to assure good food for four footed friends. End of story.
Other than ignoring the continued request for a tithe from my table, I didn’t get much done today. The tent is still not refolded, one week into “real life”. The camp kitchen still hasn’t been stowed away. I didn’t go shopping, or cut the lawn, or much of anything. There was some taxi time, trying to relieve pain for son #3 (wisdom tooth). Other than that…
I did finish the last of the Steve Barry novels, ending a summer of enjoyment. The ebook is a revolution for people like me. A chance to work through the entire catalog of an author, in order, without the pain of toting a box of paperbacks from here to there. Soon, my magazine habit will be fed similarly, and then the only important detail will be keeping batteries charged.
