Stuff

Yes, it is hot and humid. But, this morning I worked up a brow-mopping sweat pulling out the first planting of corn. Some promising rain clouds obscured the sun, so there I was, harvesting the fodder and feeling an unusually cool breeze. All of a sudden, it was Fall. Summer was playing hide-and-seek with me. The dogs and I sat under the tractor shed and shucked the dried ears to be used for duck food. It was nice to take a mental break from the heat of mid-summer. I was not day-dreaming of cooler temps. If you know me at all, you know that I love this sticky, sweaty Alabama weather, even the winters. The reason I like the winters here is because, more often than not, they are mild, rarely replicating the savage freezes through which I suffered while living in the Midwest.

On a more sober note, WitchWoman’s mother fell and broke her hip yesterday. Ironically, she was preparing to attend her 91st birthday party at WitchWoman’s house. The family was gathering when news arrived that an accident had occurred. Of course, nobody wants to look at the statistical outcome of this incident. I don’t blame them. My biggest fear is that The Old Goat will suffer a similar fate. Recently, while visiting my Uncle, his home health nurse, who knows The Old Goat, told me that “it is only a matter of time” that he falls. He does have issues with balance. In fact, he has fallen a few times recently. Fortunately, none of his falls, so far, have had serious implications.

The 26-horse power, 54 inch cut lawn tractor I bought last Fall broke. A bolt holding on one of the cutting deck pulleys dislodged. The bolt is stripped so I monkeyed with it for a while before driving into town and buying a new bolt. Surprisingly, the simple repairs I attempted, worked. The tractor is back in operation and powering through the rapidly growing grass of the expanded yard. First thing I noticed when I returned home was that Tinker had greatly decreased the size of the yard. To the contrary, I have progressively expanded it. Now I cut a couple of acres every week. It takes me most of the day to mow it all, then another half day to trim and primp the place.

The debt talks in Washington are pointing out to Americans just how dysfunctional the federal government is. What amazes me is that this is the same government to which we are entrusting health care. Too many of us have filters. We acknowledge what we want to hear and see and discard that which does not make us feel tingly and warm. Baseline truth is probably that most of us don’t care what is happening in Washington. The problem is that what the folks there is doing, or not doing, potentially can harm us. We may be in the middle of a major ideological battle that few want to recognize. The Civil War was an ideological clash that could not be ignored. Today, however, not caring what happens beyond the limits of our experience is the norm. That is, until a bunch of peckerwoods fire canons on the local national guard armory. Our republic may be in its death rattle. That is not without precedence. Remember Rome? Its glory days were not during the republic but the dictatorship. I am just having a difficult time envisioning O’Bama in the same context as Caesar. Et tu, Nancy?