I’ve read about it; I’ve seen it in movies; I’ve seen it demonstrated in a classroom – now there’s an iffy use for tax/tuition money. The idea is to list the pros of a decision or action on in one column and the cons in another. The reason for it is obvious; it’s commonsense. I suppose a lot of people don’t do it because they don’t want to see written out in front of their face the truth of the matter. They have this really stupid urge to jump into the fire our of their warm frying pan and they don’t want to have another hurdle between them and doing what they want to do.

However, this afternoon, I sat down and made two columns in my mind: people who are in my life and people who are gone. Now that’s a heck of a thing to have staring you in the face.

I very much like the smell of wood smoke – the kind that comes from a fireplace or a woodstove. I like the smell of newly-washed hands. I enjoy the smell of candles as long as they are not the sweet, cloying smells of some artificial contrived wannabe classy salon. I do not like the smell of little old ladies, unless it is the cleanliness of soap and the clean fresh clothes. That last sentence is an odd one – one that I might have edited out at another time. But, heck, live with it; it’s true.

My  dog has bouts of pancreatitis and so we try to feed him neutral foods that are low in fats and easy to digest. Usually he gets chicken, rice and dog food (for vitamins) or buffalo meat, rice and dog food. When he gets the buffalo meat, I usually snitch a bit because it is so good. Sometimes we will brown regular ground beef and put it through a double draining procedure and every now and then I will warm up some Campbell’s Chunky Beef & Vegetable Soup and let him have some of the watered down broth on dog food. He loves that, but we have to be careful lest it taxes his little system. I almost forgot – sometimes he has minced steak warmed with dog food and a bit of water. That’s okay with him too.

Well, today, when I went for his buffalo meat, I saw that they had buffalo hot dogs in stock and on sale. Woo Hoo. It just so happened that I had a nice fire going at home and so, yes, I came home and roasted one and ate it. I still snitched a little of the buffalo meat, though.  I love it . . . with absolutely no condiments. Love it, do you hear me? Love it, love it, love it.

Because I wanted to check on school delays, I checked the TV this morning and while nothing was scrolling along the bottom of the screen, the news people, talking about the Ohio primary, visited a Longaberger basket factory to discuss the recession and the fact that 1,000 workers had been laid off during the year. I looked at their site as one of the reporters mentioned Longaberger baskets as being as “must have” item in some households.

Here’s a scenario: Someone feels sick and they grab for a receptacle. And it is a basket that costs hundreds. Hey, why does anyone need a basket that expensive? The gracious living thing?

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.

Front row: William A. Vance Jr., Ronald Vance, John Vance, Donald Vance

Back row: Thomas Vance, William A. Vance Sr., Sherman Vance

Mighty paws of the mighty snowman monster.

I have been sick with the respiratory flu, I think. At any rate, I have had a fever and some actual shake me around chills the past couple of days. Last night I was stretched out under afghans and blankets when I heard people talking in the house that there are many police cars outside. I didn’t feel like getting up. What a bummer; just how many times do you think lots of police cars will park across the street from my house? And the piece de resistance? A K-9 unit. I could be posting pictures here of a dog on duty; I guess I should have had them hoist me off my sickbed and lash me to a telephone pole so I could provided live-blogging.