Maggie’s Day Out

As you may have noticed, I am gradually repopulating the "lost posts" archives from the original Switched At Birth that didn't make it into the Internet Archive's Wayback Machine. I thought it would be an aggravation to retype those old posts. Not so. I'm enjoying wandering around in those yellowed pages. It's reminding me of the value of longitudinal context. 

Part of the fun of blogging is this creation of personal archives that we are all doing. Another significant aspect is the stretching and learning that must occur – I think of the process as keeping our thoughts fresh like a natural spring rather than the stagnant pool they might otherwise become. I've been poking around, stumbling some, and generally having a blast with two new branches of this blog tree: Sugar Shack, which will tell the story as it unfolds of Beth and Buck’s writer’s cottage, honeymooners’ hideaway, and fish camp on old Perdido Bay, near Pensacola, Florida  and False Dawn, a mircoblog "for 3 am floaters and fragments," those words and half-formed thoughts that come in the wee hours.

Yesterday, Buck and I took the afternoon off to run over to the Sugar Shack and spread some rye grass seed and begin other clean-up, fix-up chores. As you can see from the two photos below, Maggie had another thought.  

 Maggie on the dock 
To paraphrase the late Lawrence Durrell, I can almost hear Maggie's "brain ticking like a cheap alarm clock." 

 Maggie in the water And a furry dog shall lead them. Buck and I put down our rakes and brooms and joined Maggie on the dock to experience sunset.

  

 

6 thoughts on “Maggie’s Day Out

  1. AS I mentioned in Metaphor, I have learned to stop, go back, look again. That’s why an hour and twenty minute drive to Anchorage can take more than two hours, but OH! some of the photos I have because of it.
    So, you’ve read Lawrence Durrell? Oh, my, I think it was 40 years ago I read his books.

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  2. Your Maggie and my Sara have a lot in common. I bet given the chance they would have been great friends. Sara is a seven year old Lab/English Setter mix, needless to say she loves the water.
    Another heartwarming post.

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  3. The best picture ever of my lab, Tess, was taken of her in mid-air off a dock, going for a frisbee. I love the way dogs are our surrogates, emotionally and physically.
    We live in a suburban place now where you have to pick up your dog’s poop from the grass. I understand, though I didn’t sign on for that. And I just keep thinking of all the poop entombed forever in landfills in plastic bags.

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