• begin with me •

I was put off, at first, and a bit hurt, to be honest, when my daughter of nineteen years informed me that I needed to ‘ask permission’, to touch her hair (I had reached out to touch her long auburn ‘tresses’, and was complimenting her on its beauty), but now I see that I really should be rather pleased that she feels entitled to ‘control her space’, and to make the rules, where her values and personal agency are concerned. In fact, having thought it through, I am pleased as punch that she felt okay with establishing new ‘borders’, even with me, her dad, and for me to be okay with it. In fact, darling daughter, begin with me. That’s my job, in a way, isn’t it.
~ Tim Burchfield



• a mutually agreeable relationship •

In the Amazon rain forest there is a living tree; within its bark lives a parasitic plant which needs no sun – it draws its nourishment from its host, and is not visible, or even evident, but for a short time, once a year, when thousands of tiny yellow ball-shaped ‘flowers’ appear on the trunk of the host tree. On the nights when the yellow ‘buds’ are flourishing, tiny caterpillars come and eat the tasty buds. Each caterpillar has an accompanying ant who, when she gently taps on the caterpillar’s back with her antennae, the caterpillar produces a drop of sweet elixir, which the ant slurps greedily. They have a mutually agreeable relationship. The caterpillar, in turn, derives protection from predators, and the ant, a veritable moveable feast.
And then, betimes, along comes a butterfly. It’s wings are gray, but for a single brightly colored yellow ‘dot’, toward the back – a convincing ‘match’ to the yellow ‘flowers’ on the tree: as ‘camouflage’, apparently.
An entire ecosystem, within one tree. That’s what I learned, yesterday.
Oh, and, one other thing: if you are walking your dogs with the girl, and you see a big bug in her hair, politely pick the bug out before she knows what you are about, rather than pointing and shouting, “Bug! Bug!! BUG!!” (Three times fast.)
Yes, I learned that, too, alas.
~ Tim Burchfield


• pugly point of view •

Humans are clumsy beasts.
They say they won’t step on you.
They’ll even make a big fuss about it,
when you get up (just in case),
to move out of their way, with,
“Hey, I wasn’t gonna step on ya,
little fella, wha’d ya think,
I was gonna step on ya?
I wouldn’t do that, not to you.”
They say they won’t step on you,
and, more often than not,
they don’t even mean to,
but then,
every once in a blue moon,
out of the blue, they do.
~ Trevor the Dog (aka: ‘Tim Burchfield’)


•i won’t be bullied•

• i won’t be bullied •
I won’t be bullied. Not by a relative. Not by an acquaintance. Not by a dear friend. Neither by a political advocate, a preacher, teacher, guru, llama, local luminary, nor one with which one has no choice, but with which, to contend. Neither with, and especially, and again, this: a friend. “Even, after all this time,” I wonder. I just look at ’em, thinking, “Aren’t we past that, yet? Goodness. Get over yourself.” I have to say, if the only relationship imaginable, here, is a dysfunctional one, I don’t care who you think you are – ‘buddy’, ‘childhood acquaintance’, ‘cousin’, ‘chum’, ‘paisan’, ‘bro’, ‘amigo mio’, or what you will – we’re done, and that’s the end of it. Maybe, I’m just getting too old, to bend. Nope, I don’t think so. I know me. It’s just this: I like myself too well, after all this time, effort, and investment, at understanding my quality, integrity, and inherent goodness, anymore, by anyone, to be shat upon. Now, if I paid good money for it, that’d be different. Happily, for me, it just so happens (that), I’m not into that.
~ Tim Burchfield