Anything less than love

Good morning, how have you all been?! A little fattened up by your Easter banquet? My Easter four letter holi*- day presented a different kind of celebration- ribs and kite flying, bubbles off the deck floating on the wind, out over a lake.

Beautiful day with beautiful friends.

I did not attend the four walled kind of church, spending most of my time out under the big sky cathedral. The hymn that was fixed in my mind most of the day was "Unclouded Day"- good old time music.

The February nursery garden supplied fresh radishes and delectable greens, the bright yet sprightly still chives- ended up in a vinaigrette made for sharing.
I gathered a bouquet of yellow tulips and budding branches from the apple tree, mixed in some walking stick willow stems and delivered it all there to the house on the lake in an old blue Ball jar.(The flowers, not the salad...oh my.) The old green Ford carried me and the flowers to the place of laughter and guitars, hammocks made for two- a virtual love palace. One of those places that you are made to feel welcome by the hugs and smiles of the inhabitants, as if you'd been there before... A few there had never shared a meal with the fellow across the table from them, and yet...eating with your fingers, barbecue dripping off your face didn't seem odd or out of order, just made the grins more abundant.

Anything less than love would not have been welcome at that table, so without thinking, I acted accordingly.

"...Oh the land of cloudless days
Oh the land of an unclouded sky
Oh they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise
Oh they tell me of an unclouded day..."

written by Rev.J K Alwood

It felt like an uncluttered, light and breezy dry day- and yet, there were storm clouds all around, heavy with rain, though not an ounce of precipitation from me or the sky, hallelujah!

Take care-

(*holidays stink. This one was different though, and once again I find myself being ever so thankful...not once identifying with those devilish eggs ;)

"Me, I got a pickup....

And I drive it like the fourth of July!" And if I could, I would head Maine-ly out east to see a kind undertaking in the form of a dancing friend who looks at life through such beautiful eyes, the sights and sighs are always glorified by a deep tenderness, lucky blessed anyone who truly sees the heart there.
How often enough to be gladdened by a generous heart, a heart ones shares hesitantly, vulnerably, and still with the greatest courage, risks again treacherous love. I am for one a gun slinger of sorts, one false move brother and bam!!! You are laying on the ground as the smoke drifts from my own barrel of too many misfirings. Or mis-aims. The target then? Why my own thumping, beating way-too-big-for-this-weary-world heart. As John Wayne declares in the Shootist-"I won't be wronged, I won't be insulted, I won't be laid a hand on. I don't do these things to other people, and I require the same from them." Hallelujah and amen brother Duke. I use to be a "dumb a** amatuer", but my aim, my targets- pretty well sighted in.
Did I mention I'm a big fan of the Duke, I loved his conviction, strong will, generosity of spirit and precious advice-"What happened out there? Why'd you shoot 'em?" Mr. Wayne stoically replied,"The conversation just kind of dried up." I am metophorically speaking here of course about shooting so called cold "sightless" basta****-but, I have had alot of practice as of late percieving vermin. Ooh, a bit harsh today, reasoning not with head but too much aforementioned weary-world heart. I know you're out there, you good folks and your hearts of gold...and I thank you for being true to yourself and kind to others. Well, off to fire up the old girl and get her pointed towards slight north, she-like me, has a cold start, but once she's firing on all points-she's a beauty to behold. Hopeful, durable lessons for you today, take care-