I will admit. I am a fan of feng shui. Thus, the drive to our home curves in front of the house, and the path to our front door is clear and uncluttered.

Death came knocking beneath the trees. I was on my way to the workroom yesterday when I interrupted a gathering of buzzards at their meal between the north fence and the big oaks and the sage.

Nuts. It looks as though Beryl is going to drop it’s rain on east Texas. Bad news for the Highland Lakes. Of course, now I have to worry about my kids in the greater Houston area. But that’s what dad’s do, worry about their kids.

It’s warm and humid this morning with fog sitting on the far hills drifting down to touch the trees in the back pasture. No bird sounds to speak of, and the highway hum is low.

It’s a nice day in the neighborhood. The morning air is cool. The bees are buzzing, the birds chirping, and the mosquitos are looking for blood.

I did some wash yesterday and discovered two more pennies. So, here’s another two cents worth of my thoughts and questions on a subject that interests me…

Happy Independence Day. I have two cents worth of thoughts and I’m going to take advantage of my first amendment right to free speech and give them to you.

Just bought a copy of Barbara Tuckman’s book, the Guns of August. I dropped off some clothes at St. Vincent DePaul in Fredericksburg. Bought the book for a dollar while I was in the store.

I have to confess. My daughter and her husband leaving Texas with their family is causing me a bit of distress.

My little pink flower got me thinking the other day. Not always a good thing but sometimes something comes of it. So, let’s try this. It’s about sharing.

At the base of the big crape myrtle is a flower bed that once was full. That was when the tree was tiny. There was turks caps, salvia greggi, and rock roses. They were abundant. Then the tree grew large.

I went to a memorial service yesterday for a man I barely knew. We had a casual relationship; it was centered around a musician we favored.

I believe summer is finally beginning. It is warm this morning. And there’s nary a breeze. I like my morning’s cool.

I was drugged and probed yesterday. They found nothing which is good. It was an endoscopy the one year follow up to my last one.

We’ve had a wet spring and early summer. Everything that likes water is getting water. I’m cautiously optimistic we might make it to fall without losing anything.

I love summer. I got home yesterday following lunch and an afternoon of music with time to mow. So, I did. I changed into my work clothes and fired up the zero turn mower.

It’s the days of the crape myrtles. They’re all in bloom. Pink petals litter the drive. Everywhere you look there are flowers. White by the back door. Pink in the back garden. Pink in the front, white in the front, purple, too.

Made music with friends yesterday. The best way to make music. And there were friends there to listen, too. And two of my cousins showed up, and that was special.

It’s raining. And I was going to say outside, but where else would it be raining except outside. So, why mention it.

Willie Mays. He helped destroy my dreams in the 1954 World Series when he ran down that drive by Vic Wertz in the Polo Grounds. Cleveland was my team.