"Anderson, Bill - Whispering Bill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Bill)

cabin, was listed officially as Route 9 lebanon, tennessee.actually, it
was nearly five miles from the courthouse in downtown lebanon, situated
just smack-dab in the middle of the country.wilson county,
tennessee.east of mount juliet, west of crab orchard, north of bell
buckle.and i loved it better than any place i had ever lived.

i lifted my body begrudgingly off the cool cotton sheets, rubbed the
backs of my fingers gingerly across the tops of my crusty eyelids, and
stumbled toward the kitchen.i opened the drapes, raised the blind over
the big picture window above the sink, and marvelled for the millionth
time at the brilliant colors dancing in the easy breeze that seemed
always to be sweeping across the top of my little hill.as i stood
listening to the sound of boiling water bouncing off the top of the
percolator, i wondered how anybody could possibly not be happy living in
a setting as majestic as this.

but my wife, becky, wasn't, and she hadn't been for quite some time. for
the past two-and-a-half years, she had preferred to spend most of her
time at a small condominium we had purchased near nashville.She seemed
to have a lot of reasons for wanting to be at our city place.i felt i
had just as many reasons for wanting to stay where i was.and now, smugly
sipping my coffee and breathing in the fresh, crisp country air all
around me, i was more convinced than ever that i had been right.

my six-year-old son, jamey, would be playing in a ymca youth league
soccer game in donelson, a nashville suburb, at eleven, and i had
promised him i would be there without fail.there hadn't been many
Saturdays in town for dad this season, and i wanted to be there to cheer
him on.besides, he and i had made big plans to hit one of the nearby
fast-food restaurants for some burgers and fries when the game was over
and then to drive back out to the country for a friendly game of
father-and-son softball. afterwards, i planned to coax him into taking a
short nap so he'd feel like going backstage with me later that night at
the grand ole opry.

i finished off half a sweet roll with my second cup of coffee, unplugged
the percolator, and tossed the cup carelessly into the dishwasher where
it came to rest alongside the remnants of six similar bachelor-style
breakfasts and dinners earlier in the week. Someday i'll have to get an
estimate on what it'll cost to wash those dishes, i thought to myself as
i swished the trashcan with my paper napkin- anderson, a jumper for two!
-and walked sprightly back to my dressing room.i grinned.i whistled the
melody to an old country song.i was feeling great and loving the
feeling.

i took a quick shower in my spacious coral marble shower stall, shaved
my stubble of a beard with a gold-plated razor my daughters had given me
the preceding christmas, then grabbed my cleanest pair of dirty blue
jeans from inside my custom-made walnut closet and pulled them on.i
dressed them down with a pair of customimade tan cowboy boots, a luxury