The cicadas this year are out in force - a seventeen year brood. An event like that reminds me that there is no better place to live than the present. I'm glad to hear it, and glad to catch up with family and old friends.
I'm so over work on the real. My last day was Friday. Goodbye to AmeriCorps! It was a pleasure serving you, America - eliminating poverty and the like - but I must be goin' now. Well I'm on my way. I don't know where I'm going. I'm taking my time but I don't know where. I awoke early this morning before the sun had risen. A faint glow could be seen in the eastern sky and only the most brightest stars were still alight in the sky. I walked off the porch (where I'd been sleeping) and looked for the moon, but the moon had sunk too far west and was blocked by the neighbor's house (the same neighbor who keeps complaining to the city that our chicken coop is on their property). Chris, me roomie, told me of a lunar eclipse, but because the moon wasn't in view, I went back to the couch on the porch and lay down watching the dawn get on. Later in the morning, after I'd been to the bank and the post office to arrange for my impending trip - oh, did I m...
Last week me and the boys were sittin' out on the porch, tryin' to stay cool through that 90 degree October heat wave. And I see this guy walk by on the other side of the street and he's carrying a camera with him lookin' all around and especially at us up on the porch. So then I see him a little later walking the opposite way down my side of the street and I said to the gang, "That guy wants to take our picture." Well, Chris Zdinak (fellow co-oper) invites him up on the porch and he gets to work snapping those pics. So then, Thursday we're all having our weekly potluck dinner and who shows up but the photographer (I've forgotten his name). Well, he hands me a CD with the pics he took and I said, "I'm gonna put these up on the old blog." So, for your viewing pleasure: Me and Wes Fillipo and Chris Z. We were having a musical jam session. Ryan was pickin' that banjo. Check out his emerald ash borer tattoo. I was jammin' a toy harmon...
After breakfast, as I walked back to the hotel, a speck of color caught mine eye. It was flotsam in a green sea. There at lawn's edge, stood a flower proudly sunning itself, haughty though small, in the humid, salty air that blows through Newport News. Flowers stun me, halt me in my tracks, and draw me close, especially the violets. I've spent hours combing hillsides for the delicate beauties. I prize their faint scent, turn it into mead of the most delicious purple hue. Deep in a cold Ohio winter, a bottle of the bubbly brew recalls the warm sunshine of spring. This member of the violet family, Viola Tricolor, is a European native that is commonly planted as an ornamental here on the Continent. Sometimes it escapes cultivation, setting a tiny seed or two adrift on the wind to land underfoot, or perhaps to find a desert island, inhabited only by the native grasses, on which to start anew. It goes by many common names, including Heart's Ease an...
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