The Call of Beaumont

I am stuck in the back garden today, all day, again. I don’t mind. I enjoy being a good husband. There are angels in the details. Today is another beautiful day.

Ed is working on the roof of his back porch. He is on a ladder. I am not going to bother him. There is nothing pressing to talk about. He is probably reading this. I wish he would pony up for a paid subscription. I am not saying that Ed is a cheapskate. He probably puts up with enough of my nonsense as it is for free in the flesh.

I am originally from New England, as regular readers who have gotten this far in our correspondence know. So was Robert Frost. Good fences make good neighbors.

Ed and I are splitting the cost of a mutual fence we share. He is doing the legwork, which is perfectly fine with me. When I say Ed and I, I am also including our better halves. I am sure Mrs. Ed had a say in the proposal and I know that Mrs. King is going to be the point person for any niggling details that don’t interest me.

I focus on the big picture.

Since I have not been out and about on my usual rounds this week, I don’t have a lot of material to report. I will tell you a story about what happened to me that is the kind of story that people tell me and I have to stop them and tell them that I don’t care what happened in their unconscious mind.

I had a dream last night. I was in Beaumont, Texas. Yes, I often dream of Beaumont.

Being homebound, I have nothing else to talk about but what urges and impulses incubate in the depths of my psyche. I haven’t been out and about for three whole days. I have nothing else to report about today but how Beaumont is calling me. This promises to be pretty thin gruel.

You may know more about Beaumont than I do. I only know one word when it comes to Beaumont. That word is Spindletop. Need I say more?

Black gold. Boomtown. Hitch your wagon to a dream.

I am going to put the paywall here before I wax poetic about the magnetic spell Beaumont, Texas casts on a certain kind of soul sensitive enough to head the Call of Beaumont.

I am also going to talk about Ed more, later. Knowing this, maybe then he will pony up the $7.00 a month and I will eventually make my money back to cover the cost of my half of the new fence. Stranger things have happened.