The first night of Merlefest and the lummox and I go for a walk....

.... just to enjoy the night air. Actually, I took him for a little ride over to the grocery store first. He likes to set in the car even if he can't go in. Then we went for a little walk about 9 pm. It is the first night of the big Merlefest which will last all weekend. Our house is on a low ridge overlooking Moravian Creek and the festival is spread out all along the opposite side.

As we started down the big hill I heard the announcer on the main stage say "Here's Doc Watson!" Sure enough - I'd recognize his voice anywhere. He say a song as we walked and then the other performers took over. We went up by the school, which is always a good thing for something called School Street to have at one end. The school yard is even closer to the main stage and I listened to the first band or two while the little beast nosed around, paying absolutely no attention to the music.

Tomorrow friends are coming down and I will spend at least the afternoon over at the Festival grounds. Now I have to go and suit up with my new equipment for a good night's sleep.

Blaine the Groundhog is dead ....

... I am afraid. But honestly, the lummox had nothing to do with it. Much to his regret.

It was about 10 tonight when I decided to take the lummox for a walk. It's supposed to go down to 20 tonight so I thought it would be fun. He thought so too.

He was full of vim and vigor and took off down the steep hill in front of the house, down to where Blaine's hole is. He snuck up on it very quietly and then stuck his head in the hole. Taking his time he inserted nearly his whole body into the lair. Blaine did not appear to be at home, so I pulled the lummox out and we headed on through the field into the UPS depot by Moravian Creek. Lummox loves to pee on the UPS trucks, which he hates for some reason.

As we came out of the depot lummox went into his killer crouch and approached something dark in the road. It was the carcass of a groundhog laying in a pool of blood. He must have been struck by one of the trucks. Lummox rushed forward and grabbed the carcass and began to shake it with surprising force (he is a killer you know). I got him to drop it and pulled him away.

I can't be sure, but Blaine was the only groundhog in our neighborhood, so I assume that was him. Killed while coming home late in the evening.

A walk with the little lummox...

.... today down by the Riverside Park. He likes that place. It was a pretty day, still cool since the weather dropped so the last few days. That made him full of vim and vigor and he trotted on out to explore. We went around the skate board/bicycle track, across our favorite bridge over the ever scenic drainage ditch, and out past the baseball diamond. Did a turn around the field there with the lummox trying desperately to get away so he could chase after some animal's spoor across the fields. Probably deer. Got him hauled around to the banks of the Yadkin on the other side of the ball park.

The little beast doesn't seem to care, but I always enjoy looking at the river and its different moods. Today it was high and swift, looking like a pressed tin pattern enameled with olive drab. We were at a part of the river I had never been to before. On the other bank was just about the largest building I have ever seen in the land of Wikes. Made out of sheet of rusted metal it must have covered an acre and stood maybe three stories high. It had an opening in the side with old metal gates you might see on a barn. I don't know what it is, but suppose it has something to do with farming. At that point we were still down on the flood plane and there were no houses anywhere to be seen.

The lummox, of course, was indifferent until we came back out at the country ham warehouse. There was a large empty truck parked in front. It let off a foul smell. Lummox went to the back end of the truck, sniffed around on the ground and suddenly dropped his head onto the ground and began to roll around in the damp dirt. I hauled him out of there as fast as possible.

We met a man mowing the lawn of the warehouse who made over how 'purty that dog is'. There's no accounting for taste. He said that the ground behind the truck probably had salt and blood and other nasty stuff from the hams that had run off into the ground. That was what the dog was so happy about and wanted to smear all over himself. There's no accounting for taste.

But for some reason the little lummox seems to adore me.