The skin on the floor, just waiting for clean up. |
Or into my garage.
Or into my son's garage.
To back up just a ways, since Catherine came to Calgary, I haven't had a chance to watch T.V. Instead we make lists of jobs to do, on paper or electronically. The lists go in on the bulletin board, on walls or into the computer. Or perhaps we send them by text. A person would need an executive secretary to keep track of just the lists she and I have made. Our lives are not the only ones that are that busy.
Catherine: "You have a deer hanging in your garage? Can I take just one picture of it?" |
Richard shot a deer last week.
He has had time to skin it, but no time to cut the meat from it.
So it hangs in his garage, waiting for him to get up at 4 am to skin it before he goes to work.
But he can't get up with that 4 am alarm, having worked himself, the day before, until he needs that 6 hours of sleep ahead of him, whether there is meat to skin or not. So still it hangs in his garage.
Catherine: "Turn it around. I want a shot of the back side." |
And after the long visit, lots of over-talk, lots of laughter, lots of pictures sharing on respective phones, we closed down the night.
A full day.
The only way to live life.
Arta
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