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By Tom

Well,  I got to hear part of John Bailey's Streaming Audio over my shoulder last night. John's pretty cool. . I get to hear about a lot of you folks you know. . . :)  

I guess everybody is waiting to hear that I mowed the lawn this morning.  It's true.  And in the rain to boot!   Carole was so kind as to run out in the back yard and pick up the various chew toys, hoses, and so on, to help minimize my soaking.  I had to shake my finger at her, though,  for attempting to levitate our  baby Stonehenge. 

Every now and then I think about doing "crop circles" when I mow.  Alas,  an urban yard is not quite the same as a field of grain, or even Johnson grass for that matter.  A few years ago some Martians wrote "Hello" in a pasture of Johnson Grass in Arkansas. ;)    Mowing is a contemplative occupation, in case anyone doesn't know that (sort of like jogging, or shaving for some folks).   

As I mowed, I recalled that today is "Memorial Day."    And, however one looks at it, for many of us, the way of life we have was bought and paid for.  To pause to recall that should put much of our petty discontentment in its place.   Life could be way otherwise.  I try to be grateful. 

Most people who write are reflective.  Much can be said in praise of reflection.  And, like most life, reflection is organic, developmental.  My hat's off to all of you who persevere at it.