It was so warm here today that it seemed like we could see the blossoms popping. Cats in heat have been prowling the yards, the sour grass is sprouting, and today the kids and I had a real backyard BBQ -- hot dogs, hamburgers, and sausages with all the fixings.
Dylan, in particular, savored the moment. When he likes the taste of a particular type of food, he really likes it. I love that about him -- and about anyone with a passion for taste.
That I'm growing herbs and vegetables this spring is one of the joys of my present life. Every morning, at dawn, I go out to check my tiny crops.
Most of what I know about growing things comes from my Dad and his mother.
The rest comes from my best friend, Howard.
This weekend, Howard lost his little brother, Harvey, who died suddenly of a heart attack not long after he had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Harvey's wife had died not long before of cancer; they have two kids in their 20s.
As this type of tragedy engulfs those around us, even as we enjoy the simple, sensual pleasures of a back yard picnic, it invariably provokes us to ponder the meaning of life.
Alas, I have not much to offer when it comes to the meaning of life. Maybe "meaning" is whatever we make of things.
Tonight, my beloved, if chronically unsuccessful Mud Lake Mafia entered the fantasy baseball draft. We seriously upgraded our talent base, I think. I am excited that the real and the fantasy baseball season is now imminent.
BTW, I have a second entry in another league this season: The El Matate Burritos.
Nosotros sólo hablan español y la mayoría de nuestros jugadores no pueden hablar Inglés, así que cada vez que transmitir noticias de este nuevo equipo, confío en que usted lo entienda! (Si necesita una traducción, por favor, no dude en ponerse en contacto conmigo y será entregado inmediatamente a su bandeja de entrada toi!
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