When you live alone with a dog, in my case an alert blue heeler, they learn all the what’s-next signals, from teeth-brushing and sock-tugging, to garbage-can rustling and cookie-jar rattling, to text messaging from a walk friend and inhaler-puffing by the alleged walk supervisor. Dinnertime delay prompts a visit and a stare. After five years …
I am posting this 50-year-old photo because it reminds of the days when my lungs and knees worked like rubber, all elastic and no pain. I was no John Muir but I’m trying to remember if I had to stop for a breather going up Kearsarge Pass in the Sierra Nevada in the early 1970s. …
For the birds: johnrobertson@jrobertsonNM·45m There are scrub jays and titmouses, (Yes, pundits say that’s the plural), and I usually root for the titmouse. johnrobertson@jrobertsonNM·12m Still reeling from @nytfood‘s latest Brussels sprout recipe, I am going for a walk. johnrobertson@jrobertsonNM·3m And, yes, I read the @newrepublic piece on the Supreme Court and standing before leaving. (All …
dream ranch 