Thursday, December 31, 2015

Happy New Year! 20116

 
Happy New Year! Everyone!---2016!
 
Happy Birthday! Lovely Lady Grace!
 
 
Resolve to have and give the very best this brand new year
Celebrate! A new begin! Reason enough for all to “Cheer!”
 
And, too, “Happy Birthday” dear young-Lady Grace
Pray! We! Our wish in your heart touch a secret place
 
Make, now, “Your sacred wish” upon yon flaming star
In the streaming-rocket red-glare hope shines from afar
 
A birthday cake to celebrate---You!...with a single candle white
I’ll join thee in spirit and share a piece, too; a generous delight
 
Resolutions? Perhaps? Maybe? For me: Just “More of the same”
Another chance for flutterbys! Rainbows! Another unicorn tame
 
Yeah! I know and free-Confess! A “Dreamer”! Never amount to much
Rules were made for transgression; deny “Faux”; live Truth and such
 
Welcome! New Year! Bring what you got; I’ll give ’er a whirl
If sun, I’ll smile; if rain, I’ll dance! Happy Birthday! Dear Girl!
 
Have a Great New Year & a “Happy Birthday!---surely…I shall! 


Wednesday, December 30, 2015

10 - 9 - 8 - 7...

 
One more day in 2015
 
 
So---another year for the history books.
 
Today! New Year's Eve! Celebrate!
 
I will; in bed. fast asleep by ten p.m.---at the latest.
Years ago, an Irish friend insisted on staying home
this night of celebratory mayhem; he called it: Amateur night!
 
Might indulge in a sip, or two, of non-"spirited" bubbly!?
"Yippee-yi-yo!" Another day; one more year! Yea!
 
Some decades ago, now, we cancelled a New Year's Eve party.
Just two other couples for dinner and an early call, but, ice
started about dusk; freezing rain coated streets, roads and trees.
Brought the hectic festivities to a lamented and final---Halt!
 
We turned in early, as usual. The next morning---Heaven!

New Year Day showcased a dazzling ice-world Winter-wonderland!
 
With trusty 35mm SLR in hand, I headed out to visit Mother Nature
in all her splendid glory; no one else was out and about. Silence!

A two hour trek in a deserted landscape allowed quiet quintessence.
A full inch of ice encased the trees and branches of the woods.
Evergreen cedar and pine glowed Christmas-crystal diamond lights.
Several eerie "snaps" of breaking large limbs echoed in the frigid
silence as the heavily burdened branches surrendered to the weight
of the ice sounding like piercing rifle reports violating the
awesome solitude. A Perfect-punctuation! to experience.
I took about ten rolls of 36 exposure film of "Ice"-crystal
"spider webs" glistening like silver-sparkle against a cerulean sky
set deep blue in a blazing bright fire-sun absent warmth. Beautiful!
 
Those myriad "once-in-a-lifetime" photos grace several albums;
such treasures would comprise one fantastic "coffee table" book!
Hmm! Not a bad thought. Not at all! Always the---Dreamer!
 
Plans are just fine; but--- What if...?
 
Adapt! Improvise! Make the best of it---and...Enjoy!
 
What tomorrow brings, no one knows. Just---Live!...the adventure!
 
If the blizzard blesses, or ice, or sun, or rain---wave and smile...
I'll be the lonesome pilgrim Living! The awesome adventure!
 
...Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Some considerations are---Worthwhile...

 
Random Contemplations
 
visit: Life; search: Truth!
 
challenge accepted “wisdom”;
focus contemplate “Truth!”
 
Love! Indeed! Conquers---all!
 
Amen!
 
 
 
Value sought; Virtue loved!
 
 
Stark demarcation lines blur to obfuscated shadows brush-
blended into obsolescent hues of meaningless faux endeavor
 
Amen!
 
 
Obfuscated Thought-Images
 
Shadowed-cloud reflections on the placid lake-surface of my mind
 
Amen!
 
 
Answers?
 
Change? Initiates wherein such concludes---always…Within!
 
 
And---In the Father’s name, Son, Holy Ghost…
 
“Irreverent”-intent to any world self-claimed faux authority;
“Reverent”-purpose only toward the one true Deity-Source
 
The “Artiste”!
 
Upon a canvas stark-white unblemished dare brush from life
vibrant-color palette exacerbated strokes daring emotion-wild!
 
 
Perspicacity-repository
 
Yonder! On the far horizon, deep-ocean water-blue;
close now upon the bow, sea-green white-flecked crest;
while in the wake, a trace of space visited, quick-done;
proud-boasted or insult-suffered, deep-sixed a-purpose;
intent-of-life to forward trek upon the journey-joyous;
treasure-“Good”, expect-“Better”, demand-“Best” of self;
embrace dawn’s “Good-bye!”-kiss to darkness-vanquished;
Satiate life’s whisper-wind fragrant rose-bloom on sweet air;
Love! Simply for Love-sake to free tethered love-spirit wild!
 
 
Dreamer!?
 
And, on the Easter Sunday eve came soft the dream
of Jesus’ lifeless body hanging triumphant upon yon
cross in exact peaceful-love sacred-personified, yet,
before these eyes asleep to reality, alive in dreams,
He awoke and came down from the evil-cross tree to
stand immaculate in body, soul and spirit: God-man!
 
In witness, I humble sacred-vow to simple state: Truth!
 
Amen!
 
 
Barefoot-Angel Tribute
 
White-winged sacred angel barefoot wild-dances flowing billowed
sheer gown contrasting-embracing a shadowed forest emerald-green.
 
Amen!
 
Soft-surf Caress 
 
High-noon sun trek yonder far horizon;
Alabaster-pale full moon-orb abyss-ascend;
love-kiss to rhythm-comfort near soft-surf.
 
 
(excerpt taken from the new book Station Master by Carl Schuler 
to be published on Amazon, New Year's day---2016)
 
 
 
books: visit: Amazon books   search: Carl Schuler


Monday, December 28, 2015

Value-Virue!

 
What Value a Man's Virtue?
 
 
Measure of a worthy "value" is man's promised-word;
Treasure of blessed "virtue" is a vow sacred-honored!
 
To "give" one's word maybe the simple task;
To "keep" one's word defines true character.
 
Amen!

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Then! Now! Always!

 
Clancy’s Pub
 
Somewhere in a megalopolis-city, a town. a berg, neighborhood, maybe, even, only in your imagination, at the corner of North Main Street and East Elm resides historic Clancy’s Bar & Grille, a gathering place, an oasis watering hole, where friends meet for fun and conversation.
Originally, Danny-boy O’Donnell had established the tavern as a stage coach stop for the Overland Co. as agent for the fledgling public conveyance line. Over the years and through several generations which witnessed a great Civil War, two conflicts of epic world conflagrations and enough regional skirmishes to satiate any “war-blood savage”, chief among the atrocities, that particular damnation in southeast Asia taking the cream of our contemporaries long before their appointed time only to be reluctantly posthumously lamented by creation of a black marble wall etched in the precious blood of the “victims” of that “politically bastardized” brutality by a faux “leader” deserving of the title of the root word of that adjective. C’est la vie! To that!
Heroes desire no parades or politico-type speeches; real men and women are well above such lies, able to face the reality of life as the dealer calls. Weakness is the cancer; simply---Kill it!
In his time of occupied space in the creation-eons of eternal time, one has come to determine a quiet destiny through Truth! Justice! And, The American Way! To fashion trinity of held belief.
Further, it is learned that values must be challenged, tested, blatantly scrutinized for accuracy; such beliefs necessarily demand hot-forge “tempering”, lest such can never rise to sacred virtue.
Our “worthy” subject’s dogmatic revelations might condense to simple couplets: To wit:
 
All we truly have to offer is Good toward one another
The very best we can bestow is Love! upon each other
 
Live! Love! Laugh! Focus contemplate!
Vigilant be! Not one future be ever late!
 
Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really---Is!
In one eternal instant the only mercy-blessing will be…His!
 
And, is it really quite so simple as such impossible consideration? Perhaps? Maybe? Yes!
Myriad debate has incepted, germinated, blossomed, been examined and concluded at Clancy’s through the ages, been and now and come. Verbal resolutions---True! Wisdom!? Hmm!
“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!” Richard III concluding Shakespeare’s offering.
“A man? A man! Where be found a---man? Modern human’s unanswered plaintive-lament.
Well! Now! Step into ole Clancy’s Pub where the “hip” intelligencia-of-the-night-darkness rendezvous each eve as the purple shadows of dusk give way to the evil demon-night festivities.
Dare! Ye civilized, faux erudite, Royal-elite, celebrity, self-acclaimed, Enter! And, inquire: Where? Might a “Man” be found among thee? Then, hear! Each rebel, rascal, rogue therein too quick answer the barbed challenge; to wit: Here! Brother! Stands a “man”! (Just ask me wife!)
Does that response then quench the queried thirst? Satiate the acute hunger pains? Satisfy?
But, the petitioner has vacated ole Clancy’s refreshment concession; he has better contemplations than to digest vacant verbiage expected; matters of import---perhaps…Truth!
His ever-mindful mantra: What other people think of me is none of my business!
Allow please! Upon me golden gonfalon a red-banner white-letter emblazoned:
Faith! Family! Freedom! Amen!



Saturday, December 26, 2015

Sunday-practice

 
Praise! Honor! Glory!
 
 
What a fantastic Christmas celebration!
 
Thank You! Dear Lord!
 
Praise! God!
Honor! The Deity!
Glory to the Almighty!
 
God bless: Our family! Our country! Our people!
 
Humble us, Lord! To remember our favor!
 
Amen!


Friday, December 25, 2015

Eternal-practiced Christmas-love!

 
Christmas lives!
(always & forever)
 
’Tis that day after Christmas, a most wonderful time.
Indeed! The babe “innocent” is born for redemption;
gifts are unwrapped and admired, treasured-secret away;
church bells toll holy believers to worship their true King;
on yon horizon beckons “Hope!” in a coming New Year!
 
Resolutions to contemplate? Naw! Just more of the same!
Reflections to satiate? My soul---Light! Me spirit---Soars!
Has been a fine year, decades, awesome-adventurous life!
Dare! Choose to make it all happen just once, yet, again!
 
In a time-gift of space allotted to me? “Thank Thee!”
Allow humble I return gratitude: Praise! Honor! Glory!
Only worthy gift we have is “Good!” to one another
Our very best to bestow is “Love!” toward each other
 
I once quipped aloud, “I know more good people than bad.”
A skeptic quick-anger declared, “You don’t know everybody!”
Truth is contained in each of the considered-concluded fiats;
Perhaps I spoke out of turn? Confused? Stupid? Wrong? Maybe?
 
Christmas Eve morning found “Santa” in a grocery check-out line
with last minute items for his sack as he began the delightful task
of delivering “goodies” to good little girls and boys. Smiling brightly
as “today” was, after all, “his” day, so to speak (He’s been waiting
for this a full year), though, in honesty, he keeps well-practiced, daily.
Busy spreading “Christmas cheer” with the beleaguered clerk who
was busily lamenting her work schedule on this auspicious holiday,
ole Santa caught a glimpse of the customer next in line, behind him.
 
A late-forty-ish man still half-asleep from an obvious long night of
holiday celebration, stared right through old Santa, not seeing the man.
Santa took notice of the gentleman’s purchase item causing the red-suited
man’s smile to broaden, even more. On the counter, the man had laid a
big box full of breakfast donuts to take home to a family he dearly loved.
 
“Ah!” Thought ole Santa. Another “Good” person celebrating---Christmas!
 
It’s simply never---too late…or, too soon. to begin! Amen!
 
Merry Christmas!
from: Ole Santa! (Any ole place! All the time!)
 


Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Christmas Eve! Merry Christmas!

 
Stable-born a “Country Boy”
 
Our Father issued a clarion invite for any believer to stand tall
While heaven echoed patient silence as not one took His call
 
A good friend and I were celebrating, just purely for the Joy
Relieving my worn out angel-guardian, Jesus be a country boy
 
In my old red pickup truck, the Son rode shotgun by me side
Trekked Rocky high on winged-unicorn ore His Great Divide
Flew western slope ’til Northwest-green Pacific-blue me spied
Touched San Fran Bay, secular L.A., abyss-Grand Canyon wide
Texas wild arroyo Llano Estacada to New Orleans Hell-gate pride
Tasted fresh and clear white Keys to Cayman Isle blue crystal tide
On Savannah to Atlanta northeast enjoyed the Atlantic seaboard stride
Touched village on Lake Michigan, visited rolling prairie landscape slide
Kissed St. Louis gleaming arch-span which pernicious gravity it had defied
And---Never “Too late!” Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead---devil-evil denied
This lamented-lost Hedonist, His friend, with parables did Jesus sure subtly deride
Saints among us and, angels, too, He loaned and prayed they help me Truth-decide
Through it all until yon journey’s-end, “His will” be done; from Love I could not hide
Blessed lowly I:Faith! Family! Freedom! ---In Him, I eternal Salvation-sacred confide
 
So? Allow humble I to answer well the Deity call, I should
Love holy Trinity Father, Son and Holy Ghost the most, I could
Live! Love! Laugh! From coast to coast; east ’round to west, I would
 
Your poor excuse and mine, lame, too, He has exposed them all
Bathe in His sacred Light of Grace by choice, deny any evil fall
 
Eve refused answer His call, her mouth with apple-full
Adam too quick acceded “I cannot my holy vows annul”
 
The mark of Kane’s-“sympathy”, he was an only child
Desert-Baptist John dined free on honey locusts-wild
 
Moses busy on the mountain top with Commandments stark
Noah ciphering the “cubit”-count? Scrambling to build an ark
 
Nero fiddled away harsh flames while posh Rome “idol”-burned
Delilah coiffured Sampson’s curly-locks to leave him evil-spurned
 
And, I aboard wild unicorns with Jesus to partake fully life’s-enjoy
Proud witness to Him, Jesus! Stable-born a good ole “Country Boy”
 
Merry Christmas!     Carl & Candy-2015


Tuesday, December 22, 2015

"Cristmas Garden" (Part 2 of 2)


He was getting excited. Nanny could see him constructing the building in his mind’s eye, improvising, both in the telling to her and in the magical reality building inside his head, adding embellishments as he went along. That proclivity, to live on the edge, take on all challenges, improvise, persevere, conquer, succeed, never fear, see only the good, these characteristics she dearly loved in her husband’s personality. He could always fathom a clear design and commit to reality what others feared even to dream. “All things are possible!” summed-up as his motto.

“Your summer vegetable garden is directly east of where we now sit. The heavy woods behind it offers afternoon shade for the plants in the heat of summer until late day when the intensity of the sun relinquishes. There is room between here and the garden for a reflecting pool. Oh! nothing ostentatious. Or outrageous. A concrete floor enclosure, rectangular; maybe just a foot or so deep so we can plant water lilies and other aquatic vegetation.

“I’ll raise the foundation of the new gazebo so that the pool water reflection of the garden and woods takes full advantage. It’ll be just beautiful”

He paused and reached for his cup of hot tea on the side table. She waited, infatuated by the intensity of his focus on the matter at hand; she could capture the detail of his vivid presentation.

Swallowing a mouthful of the delectable hot liquid, he was anxious to continue, but caught himself. Not meaning to be impolite or show disrespect in his enthusiasm, he paused.

“Oh! Sorry, Nanny. I didn’t mean to get so carried away.” He looked down, sheepishly. “I guess I’m still like a kid in a candy shop when I get started on something good; all eyes and an insatiable appetite. If you have any suggestions, just chime right in.” He meant it as an apology.

Nanny laughed. “Oh! Don’t you worry, none, Bapa! I already have some ideas. Like cattails in and around part of the reflecting pool and flowers to compliment the vegetable garden and flowering shrubs and some red bud trees, blue spruce and Japanese miniature red maples and dogwood, both pink and white, to grow close together so that the colors intermingle in spring bloom. Maybe a yard swing, you know, one with a canopy and seats facing each other.”

She paused to catch her breath, smiling brightly, like a girl getting her first formal gown.

Now, it was Bapa’s turn to laugh, enjoying her girlish exuberance; they made a fine couple.

“I’m sure you haven’t run out of ideas. Just keep thinking and they’ll continue to come to you.

“But, I’ve only just begun, too. The girls and I have talked about these ideas for some time; you’ve heard them mention some of it, I’m sure.” He waited for her affirmation.

“Yes. Of course.” She seemed somewhat confused, unsure of the truth of it.

“Nanny! None of this could be that much of surprise. They talk about it all the time.”

“Well. I guess I just thought they were playing their perpetual fantasy game; the way they make up fire breathing dragons and princes and princesses and magic dust and flying horses.”

In an effort to sooth her feeling, if indeed, they had been injured, he plodded on.

“I have to admit, I have a lot of trouble keeping up with those three, myself. Much less ever getting ahead of them. But, they are so cute that I just can’t ever say: ‘No!’”

“They are precious,” she admitted. “I best start paying closer attention.” At that, she laughed.

Feeling that he had over stepped his bounds, perhaps that he had plotted with the children around Nanny, or, at the very least, that she had interpreted it that way, he thought better of going on with his narrative. As a compromise he tendered an offer and she could decide.

“Anyway. I’ve yammered on long enough for tonight; it’s getting pretty late. Next time the little girls come to visit, maybe for an overnight stay, we’ll all sit down and talk about it.”

She gave him a look of half-apology, half-expectation and squeezed his hand, affectionately.

“Oh! No! Bapa. I’m not offended in the least. But, you can bet I will be if you don’t finish.”

He laughed. “Okay, Nan. Of course, most of this I’m ad libbing as we go along; you know that. It all came together as an idea we could make happen through the fantasy playing whenever the girls would let their fairy dust fly and I happen to be nearby and hear their plots and plans. I guess I get more than a modicum of their fantasy ‘magic dust’ one me, from time to time.”

Nanny chuckled at that. “Yes! Indeed!” she half-whispered, then, laughed aloud.

“Anyway,” he steadfastly continued, choosing to ignore her light chastisement, “That east side will be our representation of Spring in the garden. We can add to and change some of the ideas when we actually do the construction. We’ll need a life-size statue of a fair young maiden to stand on a pedestal in the middle of the reflecting pool. She’ll be the innocent virgin version of a fertile matronly Mother Nature giving birth and life to the garden.”

“You will remember the tender age of our girls when you unveil this chapter?” she teased.

“Not to worry,” he mused, patting her hand, gently. “I’m always a gentleman around ladies.”

She gave him a questioning glance but thought better of pursuing the matter; he read her mind as to the impending curiosity and appreciated her letting it pass between them. He smiled.

“To the south,” he continued, “will be the summer goddess garden and we’ll find a marble statue to place there, too. Maybe a young mother type radiant with life, fashioned in fine female features, strong, refined shoulders to carry her burdens, a slim waist and long, shapely legs.”

Nanny interrupted. “Are you describing the little girls’ idea here, or is that wistful look indicative of your personal desires; you seem almost…anxious.”

Like the proverbial cat, Bapa not only always landed on his feet, he was quick of reaction, and, luckily, of wit, too. Good thing! That blessing was.

“Actually, dear Lady, I had a picture of you in mind when I described that fair beauty.”

“Umm! Hmm!” she breathed, feigning coquettishness. Then, “I return your---‘Touché!’”

Pressing forward with the telling, he decided discretion was, indeed, the better part of valor.

“The lake is there and we’ll set her in front of it on a pedestal for all to see. She’ll be the siren of the South and will represent Summer. With the pasture in the foreground and horses, cattle and sheep grazing, that portal will be the fulfillment of Spring’s promise of nature’s bounty. Maybe every other year, or so, I’ll plant winter wheat in that pasture so it’ll be winter-green, then gold right up to harvest in late June or early July. I’ll over seed it with red clover in February and let it lay fallow until the fall when I’ll sew it in rye so it will be green most of the time. For beauty, even in the winter time. The hills in the background reflect in the lake and especially in the fall, with the green carpet and autumn reds and golds finery, it’ll be absolutely gorgeous.”

“On the west we’ll landscape around a sundial; to the north, a statue of the god, Anemoi.”

Nanny could picture it all in her mind; Bapa painted a beautiful solitude. Bucolic! Serenity!

Details would refine out of the impromptu-design and, together, they would construct the fantasy-dream. Pleasant memories permeate life-complete. All such manner begins with---Love!
 
The End

Monday, December 21, 2015

"Christmas Garden" (Part 1 of 2)

 
Christmas Garden!
 
 
 
 
Again, they sat contented, enjoying a rhythmic to and fro of the glass window-encased gazebo swing.
Finally, when moisture trapped in one of the cedar logs boiled to eruption, sending an exploding red fireworks rocket shower of sparks ascending the stone chimney, he broke the silence of the tender moment to answer her initial query.
“A Christmas Garden!” He began, now suddenly excited to tell the tale as she waited, expectantly. Nanny knew that look in his eyes; this was going to be good. She just knew it.
“The little girls actually came up with the idea. Well! Let’s say that they planted the seed and “A funny thing,” the old man thought, aloud. “A Christmas Garden!” He shook his head at the very incongruity of such imagined fantasy. An “oxymoron” in the modern lexicon within a world of “hip” and “in”; the “sophisticated” inhabitants. Even, at that, he laughed audibly at his own self-chastisement of supposed convicted ineptitude where the “younger” generation, now marked by one of the latter alphabet symbols, was concerned.
“What are they going to do when they run out of letters?” he wondered. “‘Z’ would denote the very next generation. Then, What? Generation---‘AA’?” He laughed, aloud. “Like the battery bunny, I guess. It just keeps going and going and going!”
“Bapa! Bapa!” Came Nanny’s exasperated admonition. “You date yourself, terribly, my husband. That commercial last ran in the eighties; that, old-Son! was a long time ago.”
“I do believe, dear wife of mine, that it was decidedly, the nineties! If you so please,” he teasingly interrupted by way of hopeful correction; never purposely undermining her priviledge..
Unflustered at his attempted override, more through repetitive numbing habit than any concentrated concerted focus, she was quite used to his antics and anomalies, she quipped, “And, perhaps you make a point. Perhaps? But, for sure, the ‘hip’ and ‘in’ of which you speak quite so casually, is now, in the modern exacerbated text, ‘Cool!’” She gave him a curt nod.
“Well! Now.” He smiled. “So, at last, we come to the very issue, do we not?” He teased, good naturedly. “That triteness, “Cool!’ I do recall belonged exclusively to the---‘Sixties!’”
He gave a protracted nod of his own making and embellished the word with an exclamation.
“Touché!” he proclaimed, meaning to put an end to the good humor which seemed to threaten his very authority on the matter; at least, in his own eyes.
“What’s old is new, again.” Nanny finished as a courtesy to his domain. She smiled, but did not look at him.
He mulled that over, a bit. Then, “Did you just get the best of me?” He queried.
“Me…?” came the reply, her tone appalled that he might even think such a possibility.
At that seemed acquiescence; Bapa smiled.
When she whispered a hushed, “…Again!” He frowned, but wisely let it drop.
Softly, he squeezed her hand and said, “I love you!”
Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she returned his tenderness in echoed, “I love you, too.”
They sat quietly, then. Moving slowly to the rhythmic charm of the porch swing which Bapa had brought into the gazebo at mid-October for their winter enjoyment. There were days, to be sure, when the temperature and apportioned sunshine made utilization of the adornment when hung on the front porch, pleasant enough for the cold season, but, bringing it into the enclosed yard decoration provided many more opportunities for enjoyment. Floor to ceiling windows and a wood-burning stove within the enclosure made for a snug and romantic venue on a cold season’s night; one just such as this. Thanksgiving was in the offing and a chill nip greeted the quiet autumn evening purple-promise of peaceful darkness-rest upon the frozen calm.
After a while, Nanny broached the question, the point of which had raised her curiosity but had been lost in the good humored banter over colloquialisms between the couple.
“What was that were you mumbling about a ‘Christmas Garden’?” she prodded.
He released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“Oh! I guess I was just thinking out loud. You know. I have been accurately accused of that annoying penchant, before,” he teased, poking her gently in the side; she giggled like a school girl flirting with her beau. “I love when you laugh,” he offered and nudged her ribs, again.
“Bapa! Stop!” she murmured, demurely inviting more. “What will the neighbors think.”
He looked around in amazement. “Neighbors?!” he mocked, stymied. “Nearest human is a mile to the road and another four to town.” He shook his head. Then, he laughed. “Oh! You must mean the dogs or the cat, maybe the horses. Perhaps the deer or coyotes?”
At that, she lovingly slapped his knee.
“Hey! Now! Dear lady,” he grudged, frowning playfully. “You do that again and I’ll give those pesky, nosy neighbors something to write home about.” Then, he kissed her gently.
Now that fantasy had germinated and promised to grow to fruition in a full-fledged imagined design-apparition, he had his captive audience interested in his developing plan.
“We could take this gazebo and make it the centerpiece of the garden. Oh! It’ll have to be expanded, improved. This original part will be the center; I’ll move the fireplace to the middle, make a circular firebox, vent it through the apex of the roof.
“I figure the finished structure might be about three times its present size; maybe a bit more.”
 
(Part 2 of 2---tomorrow)