Here I sit, on the porch, no longer in front of the fire, waiting for my ichat buddy to show up this evening. And here he is . . . more later.

Well, that was that. It was 79? in Georgia today; supposedly these are the beautiful days of spring down there. I think you have to be born to it; for me such weather would put me into a funk about the upcoming blazing, humid summer. Now, I can enjoy autumn, knowing winter is on the way, but that also means the holidays and shorter days that are so good for reading when the temperature outside in not inviting away.

But, Georgia? The heat that ties people to their air-conditioning is when the days are long. You sit inside and stare out at a  world that is too hot to function well in. Although, maybe Georgia would be a good place to lose weight – you leave the AC off and just sit on the porch drinking iced tea and sweating and not taking in any calories that would have to be processed.

I’d better make the best of it and maybe things will work out better for me. I need a plan: how about a personality cheer up job? Then some weight loss. That would be a start.

My mother won’t go anywhere; she says, “What if I get there and get sick? What if I die? You’ll have to get my body home. I grew up with this . . . and I think I’m kind of mad about it. Did I make a little jump from Georgia to my life in general to Mother? I guess I did.  I am testy tonight, and sarcastic . . . and feel like having a temper tantrum of total frustration. You know, one of those where you stomp your feet up and down, utter a moaning growl of desperation and sometimes hit your head against the sofa arm. (Sofa arm is a little odd-sounding, but it is so much smarter than using a wall.)

Somehow, Mother must be responsible for Georgia . . .

Yes, I know I didn’t intend to mention her blog anymore, but now that she is remodelling “the lodge”, I am intrigued. Is the Drummond family doing this, or just Pioneer Woman and Marlboro Man? and quite frankly, I think it looks pretty nice as it. She says this is where she Marboro Man lived when they were dating and then they moved to another house and are using the lodge building for guests and family. Okay, that’s a pretty nice guest house, so her place must be super special. She writes that she is going to blog about the whole renovation and even let readers help choose colors, tiles, etc. Okay, why?

Is cattle ranching as profitable as it was? Granted, it is lots of physical work; I mean Marlboro Man and his brother Tim don’t seem to be sitting in front of a fire or touring Europe while this ranch work is done. I’m wondering if the Drummonds are going to diversify their ranching venture into a tourist market Maybe the blog and the pictures for sale and calendars are the first steps in this endeavor. If so, that’s fine because it gives me a chance to look in on ranch life when I don’t have the money to do so first-hand and I don’t know anyone who lives on a cattle ranch. It’s a winning thing for me.

I do enjoy looking at all the pictures Pioneer Woman has on Flickr and getting a glimpse of Oklahoma nature – down to prairie flowers and bugs and on up to cows and horses and cowboys and cowgirls.

I am monitoring this fire I wanted to have to day to make the gloom more acceptable. The problem is the wood has been rained on after having the snow melt off it it. Technically, it is old and seasoned wood, but the outside of it is downright wet. So, the fire was started with wood that had been inside and is now being augmented with some I brought from the wet outdoors, an act that resulted in a dirty messed-up turtle neck. My plan is to put the newly brought in wood in front of the fireplace and how it dries out a little before being tossed in the flames. I think it is working.  What I really would like is some good old popping wood – and some apple wood would be nice as well.

S0me times I think I would just like to have a big old log coming in the back of the fireplace and as it burned, a guy stationed outside pushes more in. Hey, hey, hey, I am hearing a sizzle from the fire. Is water caught in some cracks. Perhaps, but I think it just might be some resin popping. Woo hoo.

I am alone in the house right now and I am loving it, absolutely loving it. Well, Sydney is here, but that is fine. It almost seems like the old days before we became a multi-generational family. The silence is a balm, a gift, a wonderful respite from rowdy people.

Excuse me while I savor it.