Pretty and pink pretty much describes the current state of my gardens.

Once upon a time I bought an alarm for my front gate. I was monitoring the comings and goings of my late wife whose dementia made it dangerous for her to be out and about unattended.

The nice thing about tile floors is they allow you quickly to stomp a scorpion when one makes it into the house.

It’s been a good summer for our pink turks caps. Actually, it’s been a good summer for everything.

And I wonder, if I only had one job to do in this life, that maybe planting one tree was a good thing to have accomplished. No one will write a story about me, but the world will know, or at least this part of it.

Whatever I did to my poor old back muscles seems to have eased a bit. Yesterday, as I sat here and typed, I could barely sit here and type.

My body has decided enough is enough. My left gluteous medius, and I’ll leave it to you to look it up, has decided to spasm.

I use a turning fork when I work in the garden and the lawns. It’s better than a shovel or a spade.

I had no idea, when I decided to take my week-long sabbatical, that the return date was the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. But it is, and here I am.

It took two days, but I finished boxing, alphabetizing, and labeling my CD collection.

I love technology. It’s the wonder of it that appeals to me.

I took delivery of my new mattress yesterday. The fee was $90 if they brought it into the house, $45 if they dropped it at the door. They dropped it at the door.

I was walking and watching my shadow yesterday. As I did, I could fool myself into believing it was the shadow of young man…

Well, I’m home after five days of music, friendship, and fun in Marathon, Texas. It was all good.

I found myself sitting alone by an empty chair last night as the final evening of the Third Ever Marathon Songwriters Festivals got underway in the dance court of the Gage Hotel.

I’m hanging with a big group of friends listening to music in Marathon, which seems a long way to go to hear folks play who live almost down the street from where I live, but sometimes you just have to get out of the house, and it’s a nice break when you do.

Went time travelling yesterday. Visited the Chisos Mountains. Tried to imagine what it was like when that first hot vent opened up and out popped hot rock, lava.

Went for a ride yesterday across the bottom of the old inland sea they now call west Texas.

Here’s another indicator of how well I feel. When something needs doing, I do it.

I’m pretty sure no one really understands how good I feel right now. My house is a holy mess, my wife died a year ago, but here I stand in all the debris feeling just as I did eleven years ago when we first moved in.