2 things

Good Afternoon.....

The kiddos and I went to care for our horses across the street who live with Mr. Johnson's mothers' cows. Did that make sense?
The horses, who we affectionately call, Bartles and James after the popular alcoholic drink because you can't have one without the other.

But they look like regular horses.

We were walking home after our horse chores when Eagle began philosophically wondering aloud why the Earth is full of valleys and mountains, stream, and icebergs, forests and desserts instead of being flat a smooth all over. His conclusion: God doesn't want us to be board. I agree.

On the way home we decide to pick up litter. Which is nasty because we live in the south and every Bojangles cup thrown from a car window has 'baccer juice in it....at least we hope, it could be other equally unappealing substances.

I pick up the first cup which is thankfully clean. On the ground next to it was a $4 off coupon to Food Lion. Reward? I think so.

Eagle recited a poem in honor of our find.

If I Knew Anon

If I knew the box where the smiles were kept,
No matter how large the key
Or strong the bolt, I would try so hard,
It would open, I know, for me
Then over the land and sea broadcast
I'd scatter the smiles to play,
That the children's faces might hold them fast
For many and many a day.

If I knew a box that was large enough
To hold all the frowns I meet,
I would gather them, every one,
From nursery, school, and street;
Then, folding and holding, I'd pack them in,
And turn the monster key,
And hire a giant to drop the box
To the depths of the deep, deep sea.

I laughed. How many children recite poetry in the normal context of a day? Mine do.

......In unrelated news.....

Bruce aka Devil Dog had a run-in with an Energy United meter reader.

For several months we've joked and laughed about the relationship between Devil Dog and the meter reader. Devil Dog seems to sense the imminent arrival of the white F-150 marked with green lettering and waits at the tip of the electric fence with a smirk on his face and a heart full of sin.

As the meter reader approaches the underground fence that signifies Bruce's boundary he stops. He roots in the passenger seat for a bag of dog bones. Once located, the dog bones are hurled one by one as fast and long in the opposite direction of the meter in need of reading as possible. In hopes of distraction and satisfying the Devil Dog's lust for gang violence.

For months this system has worked for both the meter readers safety and the Johnson Family's amusement. We've remarked at the increase in speed and agility of the young meter reader. We were really rooting for the young man.

Yesterday the Devil Dog was in no mood for fun and games. Only flesh and blood would sooth him. When the unsuspecting meter reader exited the safety of his Ford Bruce was on him like White Fang. I wasn't there so the only witness is a 6 year old whose favorite response is "YES" to every question I ask.

From what I've gathered (as the meter reader didn't stick around to tell his side of the story), Bruce stole the meter readers electronic recording device and then went for the young man's digits but not before raising ever hair on his body and snarling his dental work.

By the time my youngest came to relay the story the meter reader was no more than a cloud of dust at the end of our very long driveway.

Bruce has a date with a special clinic known for their neutering capabilities in a 2 weeks. We'll see if Bruce sheds his nickname of Devil Dog for something sweeter and milder.