Cholla Sticker's And Smiles

Got the gate fixed, today. Part of the fixing, involved laying in 'paving stones', beneath the gate, and concrete 'half blocks', that's what I call them, around the paver's, to hold them from shifting. So, it's not a 'black Aswan granite coffin' job, with perfect cut edges, to a micron...but it's my gate, out here in the middle of nowhere...and while the wind chapped my ass, and the weather, about froze my 'crystal balls', I got another project done.

Yesterday, it was 'the little shed', and a dozen 80 pound bags of Quickcrete and lime. Damn stuffs heavy...but got it moved. Now, I got 'floor space, for my sacred tools, and the little wood stove. Day before that, it was a 'jack and transducer' installation...for my Gretsch 'Jim Dandy'...and new shelves for the kitchen and living room. All these projects, have been 'waiting' for me to pull the plug, out my butt, and do them. I got tired, a year ago...when we moved here.

Guess I'm getting the 'second wind', as they say. One thing after another. Sorting this all out. It's a hazard, and writing takes a bit of time, and like anything I do a lot, it gets better. After a few false starts, and 'cash flow', plumbing problems...it went organic, and like a guy, smokes a lot of pot...I just focus on 'the doing', in one spot, then the next, and the next. I look back, and go, Damn! Looks pretty nice!

I don't worry about 'perfect' anymore. It ain't never gonna happen. By the way, did I say...I don't smoke pot? I would, but it don't come my way, kinda like money, friendships, and romance. That's ok. I get along on starlight, and coffee...sitting on the old front porch, gazing out toward 'Tres Hermanas', the three beautiful sisters. Occasionally, I crack a beer, listen to the melodies I play...on me old guitar. I talk with God, a friend I may be sure of...or something 'ticks me off', to a few new lines to post...on google plus.

The dogs want bologna, or liver patee, or just a 'pee' and a romp with me, among the cholla sticker's, and scrub brush. I smile at the 'cowboy' in my soul...send a buddy, far away a few laughs, to cheer up his day...as my avatar, ''Pistolero'! I light the fire pit off, burn a few dry twigs for him and me, cock back in a lawn chair...ain't no lawn here, plant my boots in the sand,,,and wonder, where my horse is? Another day of getting by, out here in the wild southwest...smiles!


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: desert moon, nancy baron photography