25 June 2015
I am already missing the long mountain walks the Hammer and I have enjoyed so many of over the years. She misses them too: the great smells you find rarely off mountain - bears, cougar, deer and the like; creeks colder and clearer than the city kind; the energizing shade of tall timber.
We still take car rides together. Me driving like a repo man, the Hammer's handsome head piercing the breeze, her nose taking in the farm smells like an hungry anteater.
We make the most of our short walks. Houses and the computerized crap they are all crammed with have become voluntary prisons for too many of us. You only live once and, for you young people who will read this, if you do not get it in now you never fucking will - yours will be a wasted life if you spend too much of it indoors.
Fresh air and bird song are reward enough for me getting off my ass. Two of the Hammer's favourite rewards are still there for her - getting her belly tickled by the long browning grass and chance encounters with strangers and their smelly butt dogs.