This morning, I drug myself away from coffee and the newspaper to mow the lawn and work on the yard. It starts snowing. In the distance, I can hear thunder. All the while, it is still sunny. Certainly the first time I've mowed a lawn and I could see my breath.
As soon as I finish, it clears up immediately, so I can only assume God doesn't want me to maintain our landscape.
I am sure that my parents would enjoy the irony that as a kid, I hated, hated, like, roll up in a screaming ball HATED working in the yard. Sometime, a switch flipped and now I'm like Mr. Miyagi out there, at peace.
Otherwise, I spent a couple of hours making a wood block and then a little painting, neither of which are going to see the light of day--for the good of humanity.
I can feel the moments leaking out of the weekend, but I can't think of a single thing I'd really like to do with the rest of it.
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