Horseshoes

Tuesday afternoon. Cool, but not cold. Warm, but not hot. Golden light leaking through the oak trees, making lace on the ground. The park was quiet, nearly empty, with people off somewhere busy with work and getting kids back to school. It was the kind of afternoon that used to make me sigh happily and say, And I don't have any homework. So I said it, and Rick knew exactly what I meant. We could go out and do whatever we wanted until dinnertime. So we rounded up the dogs, and a banged-up set of horseshoes, and set out to play our first game of shoes in years.

I used to be really good at horseshoes. Really good. Like winning tournaments and even kicking my cousin Chris's butt one time, which simply is not allowed. Now I'm not so good. It's been years since I threw a shoe, but it still holds all the old appeal for me. I get to sling large, heavy, noisy objects, drink beer, get my hands dirty, and surprise myself with a miraculously beautiful shot now and then. What's not to love about this game?




I tossed 3 lovely ringers, but Rick still won both games. Ah, well. I'm OK with that. I guess he just knows how to hold his mouth right.




And through all the clanging and dust kicking, Heidi and Lucy looked on from the safety of a nearby tree, happy to be out with us, and looking just beautiful in their natural sepia tones. If life gets any better than an afternoon like this, I really can't imagine how.

Comments

  1. Kim, I was one of your first blog list folks; I have shared this blog with many folks, working, retired, Rv ers, tiny house people, gypsies, and vagabonds. I love reading your comments and observations.My poetry blog is http://awildpatience.blogspot.com
    I would love to remain on your blog list.
    Enjoy your harmonica and I did love the idea of the gratitude bracelet.Joan Tucker

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