Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its seventh year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

June 9, 2013

FIRST SWIM

... remnants of a tropical storm yesterday, thunderstorms forecast for later in the week, i decided to take advantage of today's nice weather by going for a little ride ... i wandered a bit until i ended up at east pond ...


... when walked into the camp nobody was home ... the boat was gone, so i went out on the dock to see if i could spot it and maybe try to get a cell signal ... i heard chuck's voice from the camp next door ("for sale," only $70,000) so i went over to see what was going on ... i found chuck working on the boat's motor ... he was saying things like, "the frangellater is flappingabbing whenever the boppinhammer reaches the glorpstop" ... or at least, that's what it sounded like to me ... he was saying some other things, too, but those i clearly understood and i'm not going to repeat them here ...


... after chuck got the motor running smooth, we all went for a ride ... ann served as bella's cushion for the first few minutes ...


... chuck said to me, "right here, pat, that's where we'll go swimming 'cause it's a nice warm spot" ...

... i trusted him because, after all, he's been my buddy for a long, long time ...

... chuck lied ... it was a "nice" spot, for sure, but i'm thinking only an inuit would use the word "warm" in describing it ...

... chuck always lies about the "nice warm spots" 'cause he knows i'm never going to fail to trust him ... he's been turning me into a popsicle for years, and, i guess, he's never going to stop doing so ... [sigh] ... what can i say, i guess he never got over my putting his desk in the bathroom ...


... i've got bella all trained ... without any cue whatsoever she'll come right over to me and scratch my toes with her cheeks ...


... bella loves me, she likes to give me kisses ...


... she doesn't seem to know when to stop, it seems, but, then again, maybe she knows that in a woman i find that a most charming trait ... i try to remind her that she's a dog, but when i forget to pay attention she reminds me that she doesn't care ...


... on the way home i stopped and took a picture of this field ... there's absolutely nothing fancy about, neither majestic vista nor profoundly moving spectacle ... just a few acres of long grass and the late evening sky ...

... often, quite often, by the time i get home it's later than i'd planned ...