cold was the ground.

A certain friend of ours pointed my head in the direction of a compilation album entitled, Dark Was the Night. Now, I didn`t really know how I felt about compilation albums that weren`t classified as soundtracks, but, fortunately, I was gifted, and began to listen.
Even though I prefer Blind Willie Johnson`s original title to the Kronos Quartet`s; I suppose their efforts would make him proud.
But mostly, on part 2 of the 2 disc compilation, I found myself watching our mice crawling upside down on the roof of their cage and replaying Stuart Murdoch's (think Belle & Sebastian) "Another Saturday" quite regularly during my six-am-just-before-dawn car drives.
Here are some of my favorite words from his song:
Look ahead with hope and cheer (Look ahead with hope)
Look ahead with blazing spirits
'Cause the One that made us wants us to spread joy amongst the living
And though times may be hard (Times, they may be hard)
And the week behind was painful
He won't ask us to shoulder a weight too much to carry on another Saturday.

I have heard that His yoke is easy, and perhaps a burden that is a little bit lighter than we`d prefer to carry.

All the Pretty Horses.

Since it took me so long to actually get to this book, &even longer to read it, I figured that I would give you an honest, yet humble review.
I suppose my favorite thing about this book was that it took me a while to break it in. Or it took a while to break me in. Western fiction is not a genre I have any particular affinity for, and there is plenty of other literature in the world for me to sit around with. So, even though the book came highly recommended from a reputable source, I would be lying if I said I wasn't mostly intrigued by the cover.
McCarthy's mastery of style, however, could not be ignored, and luckily, like a green colt, I was broken in after about sixty pages. The poignancy of McCarthy's diction, the structured coherence of his characters, and his overall knowledge of the craft made this novel worth taking a little more time on.
Here is my favorite passage in the book; it's on page 135.

She watched him, not unkindly. She smiled. Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real. The events that cause them can never be forgotten, can they?

Find this book and read it. There's some caballos in it, too.

pour a little salt, we were never here.

i don`t know what to tell you, really.
of how to relay what laps i have run, [oh! the distances these feet have walked!]
&you expect to receive my gifts wrapped up neatly in butcher paper, tied with strawy twine?
i cannot speak to that.

of pigeons, people, &pretty, fine things.
of night time wanderers, metros, &cobbled streets.
of day-long flyings, &airport wanderings, and finally coming home [?] where is that again?
of short sleeps, bicycle rides, chlorinated swimming pools, ping pong tables &soft hearts.

yes!
i forgot what it is like to have two hands and feet,
we need to be reminded.
but i doubt you could ever know what i truely mean.

part 2.

to be unselfish &kind with hope &bright words,
&to plant flowers side by side in zig-zaggy rows.

yes, this is living.

four word letter, part 2.

we have our beliefs.
but we don`t want our beliefs.
God of Peace,
we want You.

I do not exist.

and ashamed, I whispered, "But Lord, all I have to offer You are these feeble hands and wandering feet and lustful heart and two dirty pocket pigeons."
so He took them.