Here Comes Summer

 In anticipation of the upcoming end of No Mow May, and because the Son-In-Law asked to borrow the tractor, we mounted the mower deck today. We’re only a week from Memorial Day and the unofficial beginning of summer. For the first time this year I’m wearing a short sleeved t-shirt, the house is open for fresh air and I’m not freezing. Meteorological summer starts in less than 10 days. Local garden centers have been mobbed the past few days. More and more road work orange detour signs are popping up. We’re getting close to North Country summer.

recently discovered trillium bed

Photo by J. Harrington

I’m not sure how I could ever prove it, but I’m starting to suspect that, if I just spent more time getting things done, instead of trying to optimize efforts because I have so many things to get done, I might at least get caught up and, maybe, get a little bit ahead. That would be nice and less stressful than trying to solve the classic “travelling salesman problem.” (No, there is no truth whatsoever to any rumor that I tend to overthink things.)

Our Minnesota legislature has ended its session without passing a number of significant pieces of legislation. I can’t think of very many places where employees could be that unproductive and remain employed, can you? I’ve been pondering ways and means to incentivize the #mnleg to actually complete the job(s) for which they were elected. One thought would be a constitutional amendment that requires return of all per diem payments to the general fund if the session ends the way this one, and many other recent ones, ended and a special session is required. I like this approach better than any that suggests going to a full time year round legislature will accomplish anything more than giving Minnesota a Minne-congress. There’s no way that would be an improvement.

In reality, I can’t do much except ponder and post about these issues. I hope you find at least some amusement in them. Maybe someone will think one or two of the ponders is worth pursuing and will pick up the metaphorical ball and run with it. Meanwhile, I have to get the snow blower summerized and the push mower running so I can mulch some oak leaves for use in the newly renovated day lily bed. And, somewhere in there, practice my fly casting so I’ll be in better shape when I finally get to the water.

The Summer Day

by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

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