Friday, June 14, 2013
Fireflies and Tiki Torches
Marilyn and I live on an acre of land in the southeast corner of Edmond, Oklahoma. It’s almost rural. From my front porch, I’ve seen deer, coyotes, hawks—well you get the picture. Our house was built in 1975 and our large swimming pool is anything but modern. My hot tub is a fiberglass antique, covered by a gazebo my step-son Shane built. We get our water from a well. The water is wonderful, except it is loaded with calcium. My step-daughter Shannon spent two days this week cleaning the calcium deposits off my hot tub. Tonight, my three dogs and I tried it out.
As I mentioned, the weather has been crazy this spring. I usually take my first dip in the pool in April, sometimes March. Tonight, already late in June, I took my first plunge of the year. The dogs, my two pugs and English bulldog, loved it. They can’t swim but they loved licking pool water off my head, neck, and back. Following Shannon’s labors, the hot tub felt wonderful.
After a stint in the hot water, I plunged back into the pool. Sitting on the steps in shallow water, I soaked in the stars, flame from Tiki torches and fireflies lighting up the night. I couldn’t have been happier when I finally came inside and pulled off my wet swimming trunks decorated with surfboards, sailboats, and paeans to places like Florida and Waikiki Beach.
I’ve been to Florida and Waikiki. Tonight, I wouldn’t have traded either for my backyard pool, hot tub, and three faithful dogs. It made me think. It isn’t where you’ve been in life, it’s where you are right now that counts.