Weather or not

It’s another cloudy, dreary day and the forecast is for more of the same for the next week. Last night’s snow showers left about a half an inch of fresh powder on the ground. While poking around the digital photo library, I came across some pictures that cheered me considerably. Take a look at one example:

Carlos Avery pools, 2/21/2017

Photo by J. Harrington

Seven years ago we had waterfowl on open water at the start of the third week in February, 2017. That discovery perked me up enough that I went and dug out a fly reel that needs a touch of lubricant and its line cleaned and conditioned. We’ll start on that tomorrow. If I sit and stare at the gray on gray outside while I wait for “things” to get better, I’ll miss opportunities to make things better in the interim. I think that also works in politics.

We are making some progress around the house. Several bags of clothing and household equipment, like a spare griddle, have been carted off to Goodwill. Some “junk,” like a CB radio I haven’t used in several decades have been trashed. We’ll keep picking away at it until the place is less cluttered and more livable. I grew up with the New England “put it aside, wear it out, use it up” approach, so I doubt I’lll ever accept the “if you haven’t used it in a year, get rid of it." Then again, there’s an outside chance I’ve leaned a little to far in the other direction. If I live long enough, I may attain a balanced life but that doesn’t take care of now and tomorrow.

Back in the last millennium, when I was much younger, there was a popular song, Let’s Live for Today, performed by the Grassroots. If I had a playlist, I’d add it for awhile. Instead, I’ll just play it a couple of times and suggest you give it a listen. If enough of US pull together, we can enjoy today, not worry about tomorrow, and still be okay.

Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes

By Charlotte Smith

Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes!

      How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn!

For me wilt thou renew the withered rose,

      And clear my painful path of pointed thorn?

Ah come, sweet nymph! in smiles and softness drest,

      Like the young hours that lead the tender year

Enchantress come! and charm my cares to rest:

      Alas! the flatterer flies, and will not hear!

A prey to fear, anxiety, and pain,

      Must I a sad existence still deplore?

Lo! the flowers fade, but all the thorns remain,

      ‘For me the vernal garland blooms no more.’

Come then, ‘pale Misery’s love!’ be thou my cure,

And I will bless thee, who though slow art sure.

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