Friday, September 26, 2003

I like my niece. We have similar ideas about small talk. It mostly sucks, but when you have to engage in it, shoot straight for the most inane of inanities. Today we talked about school size. About how my high school was small and my college is large, though not so large as many colleges. And how her high school at home has more kids than the deaf school does. It was inane. And we gloried in it. We smiled and exchanged those rare signs I'm clever enough to understand. Brittany's good for that.

I never really noticed until today how happy it makes me that my dogs greet me when I pull in the driveway. They were both inside today, on account of the threatened rain, and so I pulled in and no one was there. It was lonely. Normally I think of the dogs as getting in my way. But when they're absent, it's abnormal and cold. I like my dogs.

It's only slightly strange that I've written two paragraphs around liking things that it's only quite natural to like. Remember that I'm a big fan of an old country song that starts: "I love little baby ducks/ old pick up trucks / slow-moving trains / and rain."

I can't find the exact quote which describes my mood at the moment. But it's a G.K. Chesterton to be sure. Something along the lines of describing ordinary old white-picket-fence suburbia, and concluding that it was: "...all of the little things God dreamt of when He was creating the world."