An old salty Irishman, half Pagan, half Catholic, a bootlegger by night and a blue collar man by day…he’d take me for drives in his K-Car or Escort wreaking of stale cigarettes and Old Spice. The car would round a special bend that reminded him of his homeland and he’d give me wink and say “This here is God’s Country”. That phrase meant a lot to me because I knew my grandfather was very serious about his religion…he crossed himself every time he drove by a Church…so I figured he had a special in with The Lord for doing all of that heavy lifting down here on Earth. Well grandpa…I finally finished the chain that you started when setting foot aboard that ship so many years ago. I have me a piece of God’s Country and I’m bound and determined to make it work. My life is half gone, the first half wasn’t special by anyone’s measuring stick, but maybe this last half was what I was meant for.
The horses are fed and bedded down for the night the dishes are done, the barn cats and birds are fed as well. The dog has been walked he’s passed out at my side. He loves the horses, gave them both kisses on their first meeting. It’s snowing just a bit, making the light reflect off the snow. The house is small but cozy, needs some work but don’t we all. Hey they got intertubez in God’s Country by the way, just gotta use some of that satellite love to do it. I’m sure the Holy Rollers will be pleased to hear that. Found some tapes left behind from the previous owner…now I know who buys soundtrack recordings of pop movies…and yes Celine Dion was in the mix.
I’m fading fast, g’night Grandpa.