By Roni Bell Sylvester
Recently I escaped from computer jail. Hell?
Threw on my boots and coat and ran! Yes ran!
Out of the house, flinging open the corral gate I let the old dog through, shut that gate, flung the next corral gate open, let the old dog through, shut that gate, and trudged with determination towards the rough, weed sided trail in the woods.
My head was swirling from ducking lie bombs missiled in by the gazillions on TV, newspapers, computer, blackberry’s.
After rounding the second part of the creek that meandered near, then away, near, then away from the trail, I noticed the old dog and the youngster dog in gleeful pursuit of - oh heck, could have been anything; dove, rabbit, squirrel, mouse, coyote.
The younger leaped, zipped and crashed through the brush, making the woods come alive.
The older, well, she’d run to the edge then stop, waiting to see if the younger would bring out something they could share.
Lugging fallen branches over to cut-aways is therapeutic. I don’t have to think about anything except making sure I don’t step in a hole, fall in the river or pull too hard on a rotten overhanging branch and cold-cock myself.
On the back side, aka river side of the trail, was an unsightly pile of bricks. Too many in the path Chuck brush-whacks, and not enough plugging the big eroded hole next to them.
What started out as pitching those in the path over the brink, ended in a passionate mission to move even the concrete slabs over the edge.
Eureka! I uncovered a cool, intact four brick by four brick square. Being a farm girl, I identified this immediately, as something “worth saving, cause you might need it some day for something.”
Too heavy to pack the remaining distance back to the house, I dragged it to a flat spot, found a couple neatly sawed logs and placed them on top for easy spotting for later pick up…in the pick up!
By now, I was feeling pretty darn good about stuff.
The dogs were smiling, and so was I.
There weren’t any lies in the woods.
The woods trail workout released all my toxins, and the three of us headed home.
Ducking under the hot wire (easier than opening a gate), I arose to the massive majestic head of our Belgium looking over me. I swear that big fella can spot movement and hear sounds fifty miles away.
He came to greet us.
Then our two Haflingers, who look as though they could be the Belgium’s offspring, trotted over to participate in the excitement.
There we were. A truly motley crew! Old dog and woman, young dog and three amusing horses.
Even the cat joined us from his perch on the gate post.
Life was good.
For a moment.
Then I made a big mistake when I got back in the house.
It was “O’Reilly” time, and of course I robotically turned on the TV.
Re-immersion into the world of lies.
Democrats lying about Republicans.
Republicans lying about Democrats.
Global warming lovers lying about climate.
Wall Street suits lying about everything.
Socialists lying about Rush Limbaugh.
Truth hating liars defending their right to lie…with their cheesy, scary Joker like “I’m on camera” smiles, which frankly scare the living dickens out of me.
So, I punched the remotes off button, and started thumbing through a Cabalas’ catalog. They have sturdy shirts. They don’t lie! They really are sturdy!
They don’t shred apart while I stumble through poky tree branches.
At last. An escape from lies.
I’m tempted to make this place…permanent.
March 4, 2009