I was sitting on my back porch on a recent morning, sipping coffee and reading a book, waiting for Her Ladyship to make her grand entrance into the day. Most every morning in the warm weather, I sit and read the paper, then a book. Always have at least one book in process. Right now, I have a biography of Arturo Toscanini, a French mystery, and a John Grisham. I’m working my way through. Books are one of the great sources of happiness. I’ve always felt sorry for folks that don’t read. Work has been progressing on my gardens, and fanciful spots of color with containers of flowers are everywhere. It all looks quite nice, if I do say so myself, and it occurred to me that amidst the unhappiness of our time from sometimes empty shelves at the grocery store to the price of gasoline, I’m very happy. You wouldn’t always know that, based on my occasional “grumpy old man” writings, where I highlight the foibles of humans and our times, but I am. Life has been good to us, Her Ladyship and myself.
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I'm Thinking...No! 