Father, Son, Dog

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father son dog

Today Andy and I planned on having a fire. Usually I don’t help out as much with the fires, but I was planning on helping out with this one. Then Alex called and said he was coming home for the weekend. “We’re planning a fire, I told him.” He was on board. (What is it about guys and fires?)

So, the three of us spent the morning cleaning up a good part of the deadwood in our woods. Then we had lunch, then went back outdoors. I moved on to cleaning out the gardens. Andy tilled the vegetable garden, returning to the fire every once in awhile. Alex took a turn with the chainsaw and hauled some big logs to the barn to become future firewood.

As I was working on the garden on the same side of the house as the fire, I looked over and saw my two guys and my dog hanging out and talking. At first I thought I’d never have time to get a picture before they moved, but it was warming my heart so much I took a chance, ran upstairs to grab my camera and long lens so I could get an undisturbed shot (even having to stop and remove my dirt-laden boots first) and managed to get back in time to catch this photo. Not exactly what I wanted. The picture I wanted was with Andy leaning back on his elbows, engrossed in conversation with Alex. And Koda was laying down, waiting for someone, anyone, to throw her ball. But this is close. Enough to tell the story.

With all that goes on in this world, I cherish each and every moment with my family and take none of it for granted. Give me moments like this and I am content.

 

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