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the healin' game
Some time ago Pirate introduced me to a song by Van Morrison and John Lee Hooker with that title. It instantly became one of my favorites of all time and a tune that I listen to when life seems to be playing the repeat loop on me with the hard times and all. Those times are getting fewer and farther between thanks to Big Ernie and his warriors. That would be y'all, y'all.a boy and his dog BabyGirl's boyfriend John lost his dad a year ago yesterday. I didn't remember the date, nor did she. When I got home from work he was headed to the cemetary to chat with his old man. He returned a while later with red eyes and a clean spirit. Now, me and this boy love to do shit stuff outside and there was plenty of stuff to be done so we headed down the road to take care of some long overdue business with cleaning out the rest of his umm..stuff..from where he used to live. It's the other house on Pecan Lane at the dead-end, and sits on a bluff overlooking one of the sloughs in the woods. My brother and his wife used to live there too. In between brother's wives, the place was rented by a odd couple of anesthesiologists who worked at my hospital. There were never two more different business partners in this world. One of them, James, was a nature boy and that's how they landed here on the farm. Russell was his partner...a big man...who complained about how little the bathroom is. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Behind the house, there are three huge oak trees that must be about 150 years old. Harold cleaned up the trash under them before he moved to Virginia with his bride. When Hoss was here last week we did the tour of the lane and found that one of those big old oaks had just fallen over. Me and Gumby the b'friend climbed up in it on a break from yard work yesterday evening and talked about life and loss and looking ahead. After all, he's my kid just like she is and sometimes you just need to know that somebody cares.
gumby tree

It's all good.

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