Hey Tommy, I'm in the homestretch of a book manuscript also, and trying not to make myself nuts over it. Six weeks left on five years of research and writing. Feels impossible. Thanks for these words that encouraged me today.
Ha! Tin Cup is one of my all-time favorites. I've watched it enough to know to adjust things in my pockets to change outcomes, that people in Texas do everything big, and that some people don't like old people and dogs. I've even learned you can leave it on or off and not care about the light. Maybe Tin Cup is only a cult flick to some, but it opens the doors to many of life's mysteries to others.
If you pre-order on the publisher's website (the link you provided), Ryan's book is shipped for free. Woo doggies, can't wait. It looks wonderful. Thanks, Tommy.
Hey Tommy. I go down that YouTube rabbit hole all the time. And that video of Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge is captivating. It took my breath away.
Hi Tommy: Just read Frank Bruni's newsletter and in it he wrote about his dog, as he often does, but this time I thought of you and your book when I read his words. Here they are: I sometimes think I could write my own book on what dogs, specifically, do for us — and I don’t mean the herding, the hunting, the guarding. I mean what they do for us emotionally and spiritually. My relationship with Regan would give me much of the material I need, and that material would include how dogs turn our attention toward, and heighten our appreciation of, nature.
The centrality of an animal or animals in our lives reminds us of all the other animals out there, of how the world teems with remarkable and curious creatures, some of which our dogs and cats bark or hiss at, some of which they chase, a few of which they kill, at least if they’re sufficiently bloodthirsty and skilled.
But dogs also connect us with nature because they invite and encourage us to venture with them into it. We spend more time outdoors and more time appreciating the outdoors, whether we’re in cities, suburbs, exurbs or rural areas.
With Regan, I take forest walks of a length and adventurousness that I wouldn’t otherwise, and when her nose twitches and her ears swivel at the smell or sound of something, I find my own curiosity piquing, my own senses sharpening. I hear the woodpecker that had escaped my notice just seconds before. I see the white tail of a deer almost obscured in tall grass. To follow Regan’s gaze is to be introduced to the turtle moseying over the lip of the creek, to the fat wild turkey waddling up a distant slope. They were always there, but I wasn’t around to note them, or I wasn’t surveying the landscape with the requisite reverence.
But take the woods and the hikes out of the equation and Regan still reorients me toward the natural world. A walk with her around the block means breezes and bird song. In opening the door to let her out of and into the house, I notice a shimmering orange sun as it tugs itself above the horizon, a smudgy red one as it takes its final bow. I pause. I say a silent thanks. For the beauty of that. For the dog in the dimming light.
Hey Tommy, I'm in the homestretch of a book manuscript also, and trying not to make myself nuts over it. Six weeks left on five years of research and writing. Feels impossible. Thanks for these words that encouraged me today.
Ha! Tin Cup is one of my all-time favorites. I've watched it enough to know to adjust things in my pockets to change outcomes, that people in Texas do everything big, and that some people don't like old people and dogs. I've even learned you can leave it on or off and not care about the light. Maybe Tin Cup is only a cult flick to some, but it opens the doors to many of life's mysteries to others.
If you pre-order on the publisher's website (the link you provided), Ryan's book is shipped for free. Woo doggies, can't wait. It looks wonderful. Thanks, Tommy.
maybe it's the leather pants....
get you a pepper mill from Sur La Table[amazon has]
You’ve got this, brother.
Hey Tommy. I go down that YouTube rabbit hole all the time. And that video of Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge is captivating. It took my breath away.
Love Ryan McGee. That interview was fantastic!
Hi Tommy: Just read Frank Bruni's newsletter and in it he wrote about his dog, as he often does, but this time I thought of you and your book when I read his words. Here they are: I sometimes think I could write my own book on what dogs, specifically, do for us — and I don’t mean the herding, the hunting, the guarding. I mean what they do for us emotionally and spiritually. My relationship with Regan would give me much of the material I need, and that material would include how dogs turn our attention toward, and heighten our appreciation of, nature.
The centrality of an animal or animals in our lives reminds us of all the other animals out there, of how the world teems with remarkable and curious creatures, some of which our dogs and cats bark or hiss at, some of which they chase, a few of which they kill, at least if they’re sufficiently bloodthirsty and skilled.
But dogs also connect us with nature because they invite and encourage us to venture with them into it. We spend more time outdoors and more time appreciating the outdoors, whether we’re in cities, suburbs, exurbs or rural areas.
With Regan, I take forest walks of a length and adventurousness that I wouldn’t otherwise, and when her nose twitches and her ears swivel at the smell or sound of something, I find my own curiosity piquing, my own senses sharpening. I hear the woodpecker that had escaped my notice just seconds before. I see the white tail of a deer almost obscured in tall grass. To follow Regan’s gaze is to be introduced to the turtle moseying over the lip of the creek, to the fat wild turkey waddling up a distant slope. They were always there, but I wasn’t around to note them, or I wasn’t surveying the landscape with the requisite reverence.
But take the woods and the hikes out of the equation and Regan still reorients me toward the natural world. A walk with her around the block means breezes and bird song. In opening the door to let her out of and into the house, I notice a shimmering orange sun as it tugs itself above the horizon, a smudgy red one as it takes its final bow. I pause. I say a silent thanks. For the beauty of that. For the dog in the dimming light.
Yes! I read Frank's book, too, and the passages on Regan are excellent. I might use a quote or two in the book. So good to hear from you!
Love staying in touch at the Shed!