En Garde

I bought new fly swatters today.  There was an actual decision that had to be made, choosing between one plastic swatter with a metal handle and an all metal with screen one.  I decided to get both.  This is, let’s see, swatters number five and six in fifteen months.  We are wearing out fly swatters, Gentle Reader.  I had no idea you could even do that.

It’s now the end of the day, during which I ran errands and did chores and nothing seemed terribly meaningful but just terribly, period,  plus HOT, and I started crying on the bumpy dirt road on the way to do recycling and get rent money.  Just at the moment when I was losing my tenuous grip on Positive, an absolutely splendid buck bounced in front of the car and up the hill.  He was a medium size, but the rack! Tall, and branching.  I was amazed.  He looked at me and realized he could relax a little, but then we both realized he really couldn’t, given the gun toting, rootin’ tootin’ shootin’ nature of life around here.  He was off with a flash of tail and those spectacular antlers glittering under the leafy overhead growth.

Things are swirling around up here, lots going on, lots not going on.  It’s hard swinging between the poles of daily life and realizing that to a certain extent one’s fate is in the hands of complete morons.  (Hello, Congress!) In a way it is very liberating; after all, we must make our ways now and things are definitely changing.  But it is all so complex, so calibrated, the hugeness of the world and the enormity of what we’re part of.  Seeing that wonderful buck today reminded me that really, we can only be right where we are, and the longer we are there, the better we are at it.  If we let ourselves be in it, that is.


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