I remember writing in grade school my obituary, and if I remember correctly, it placed me as killed by robbers on the side of a dirt road while travelling doind good works in Africa around the age of 34. Call it my megalomaniac hero complex, but I always thought I’d go the route of Ghandi, Dr. MLK Jr, Christ, and such. It makes me feel I didn’t get that far in this lifetime, but I guess we are all at our own pace and calling.
Anyway, Tuesday I rode the lawn mower the whole “back 40” so to speak, and the lawn didn’t seem long enough. In a half-hour it seemed I had finished before I even started. My wife saw me outside, waving my hat with pride to her. Simple pleasures. Riding a Farmall on my own property for the first time will probably be orgasmic.
I got a lot of feedback from my “Other Flock Ministries” charter. The old landlord (and friend I truly respect) was the first to respond, enthusiastically and with heart-felt support. My Dad was skeptical it would be worth doing, but as always not dis-supportive. My God-Mother Aunt Bobbie gave her blessing, which means a lot to me, and a few others were touched by one or more of the basic intentions of the ministry.
Grandma (my step-mother’s mother in her 90s) died this week, and the ashes are coming back to New York for eventual internment. She was a wonderful lady, and I wish I had known her longer. And I am a little annoyed no one sent me her nursing home address the last few years, as I wanted to send her mail from time to time. Requisat in Pace, Mater.
For my birthday, Merry bought me a phone (with an extra one for her). After some frustrating drag-down fights with it (and some help from my friend at the Cingular stand who lives in the apartment complex), I am starting to really like it. We’ll see how it changes the process of life around here.
It’s a beautiful day! I sat outside, let the chicken roam, Lady on my lap. And I almost wish the grass was longer so I could cut it.