Ruby

There are many things that I will not be eating for the next 27 days, as part of my fast/cleanse. Corn, wheat, soy products, sugars of all varieties, gluten, caffeine...It's gonna be all about fruits, vegetables, and healthy grains. And 70 ounces of water a day. What will I learn from this adventure? Will my dreams be affected? Will I look eighty years younger?

The family atomic and I just got in from a nice Sunday supper out in Winder, Georgia, which is a rural enclave that will probably be suburbanized and subdivided within ten years. For now, though, it's as it has been for the past hundred years or so: a pastoral paradise. Anyway, we have a friend who lives out there. Her name's Connie. She has a tiny house perched on the edge of a forest. Attached to the front of her house is one of the world's greatest porches.

Connie keeps horses. And one of 'em - "Ruby" - gave birth 9 days ago. Now, today I learned that a wee baby horse is called a foal. A few days after it's born, though, you either call it a filly or a colt. Ruby's progeny is a colt and his name is "Blueberry." He's all lanky and nubby and wobbly and he sticks to his mama's side like white on rice. He nurses from her a lot, too.

The family atomic and I walked right up to 'em both today and said, "Hey there, Ruby. Hey there, Blueberry." And Ruby gazed into Eleanor's eyes like she had nuclear secrets For The Horses tucked away inside of 'em (and for all I know maybe she does). Ella laughed and reached out while Stella The Feral Fang barked at Blueberry and I said, "Stella! Be cool, dammit! That's a 9 day old baby you're barking at!" Ruby was cool as can be, though. Sort of a boddhisattva-type animal, full of Spring sunlight, chilling winds blown in from the West, and milk for her Little One. A funny thought enters my mind: She coulda trampled us all if she'd wanted to!