I was walking through the park next door on a quiet evening walk last week, and as I did one persimmon hit the ground and rolled out onto the trail right in front of me.

Three friends. More than fifty years together. Lots of laughs. Lots of parties. Lots of dancing. Lots of football. Yesterday we sat there together on our metal seats, backs against the concourse wall. Comfortable.

Football weekend. My longtime friend Tom and I made the trip into Houston yesterday. We’re ready to watch our Houston Cougars take on the Kansas Jayhawks.

Went for a drive in the hills south of town last night. A little bit of free floating anxiety had made its way into the house and settled on my shoulders. I needed to get out.

Played my retired guy card yesterday. I sat in my chair all morning and read a book. The mowing waited. It eventually got done…

Ah, these mornings. Cool with a hint of moisture. Green grass. Sweet days. There was rain around yesterday, but none fell on me. But that’s okay as long as it fell somewhere in the neighborhood.

Alleluia. The mulch is moved. The new bed is complete. Took long enough. Although, I really can’t remember when I started it. Back before last Christmas, I believe.

There’s a lovely chill in the air this morning. Feels like fall. It’s Monday. I had a good weekend. Music every day.

Made music last night. It was a spur of the moment thing. Last month my steel guitar playing son asked my bass playing daughter to sit in with him during a monthly music gathering a friend of his has started. This month they invited me.

I love the moon. That little after thought in space that shines with the reflected light of the sun. It comes out when the buzz of the day is done, and Apollo is off being a star on the other side of the world.

I no longer remember when I started this project. But somewhere along the way I decided to put in a new flower bed along the north fence of the front yard.

A torrential deluge gifted us with a half inch of rain yesterday afternoon. It fell so hard and fast, however, that most of it probably ran off.

Went for a walk with the butterflies yesterday. The American Snout butterfly is migrating and the park next door to my house is full of them, particularly along the path and brush beside Town Creek.

I labored on Labor Day. Mowed the back lots, mowed the front, and had a good ole time. I pulled weeds. Got my hands dirty. Got down on my knees. Raised a sweat.

It is cool outside this morning. There is a heavy dew. Days of rain are starting to pay dividends. The coral sage is standing tall with tons of red blooms. The pink Turks caps are full of flowers. The little persimmon tree is putting on leaves. Even the tiff grass yard has returned from dormancy with sprigs of green. There is life in the fields.

I have three little crape myrtles, black diamonds. They once lived in the southeast corner of the yard. They failed to thrive. I moved them to more fertile soil on the back lots by the pool. They failed to thrive.

The sage is in bloom. I’ve waited all summer. But the sage likes rain to bloom. None came. Now it has. Rain has fallen. Two of my three plants are resplendent in their glory of purple and gray.

The rains came. The grass is greening. The sage is in bloom. I am rested. My spirit feels full, and I still find it hard to believe I am not lying in bed today recovering from surgery.

Gatekeepers. They’re important. And you can’t really get anywhere without going through one. Last week I encountered two of them.

Two days later and I’m still stunned at my Friday turn of events. For an entire week I had worked non-stop to schedule what I thought was a life saving surgery and make sure I had the best hands possible doing the work.