Just in case you're wondering, Saturday we got two inches. I know. I looked. I've got a rain gauge.
Nothing--or so it seems to me--so definitively ranks me with the old coots than my new found ability to toss that factoid into random conversation. Honestly, I could head off to any of a half-dozen coffee-and-donut diners this a.m., take a chair around some crowded table, and fit right in, armed to the teeth because I got the goods now. It rained pretty much all day on Saturday, see? If you're wondering, wonder no more because I got the goods--my rain gauge says two inches.
End of story.
Besides, yesterday in church the bulletin quoted a Caring Bridge in a way I understand. I really do--I understand. I get it now because I'm retired. I quote: "Domino's with family tonight. . .can't wait :o)." Look, she'd have to go to Sioux City or Sioux Falls to mean the restaurant--that Domino's. What she's grinning about--see that little pig emoticon?--is the fact that she's just plain thrilled to be playing dominoes with her family. I get that too because I'm now of the age where such things are a thrill. There were other joys in church yesterday, three of them, in fact, three good stories. But this one--Domino's!--was the first to make me smile.
And then there's this morning's sky.
I know my friends down there in the Land of Enchantment will think I'm nuts, but I'll say it anyway. There's no mystical shapes cutting stark silhouettes on this horizon, no red rocks, no mountains within 400 miles; but just outside my window something orange and turquoise in this morning's early dawn made my heart dance to a beat right out of New Mexico--and just the thought of it makes me want to head out west yet this afternoon.
No, it's not this urge to head out to Gallup that marks me as an old man; it's the simple joy of the dawn. Sometimes I think I should wake up the world at five on a morning like this one, not let anyone sleep because the show they're missing is so majestic. Here's the way I'll say it: this morning's Siouxland dawn is almost Navajoland, I swear.
But then, I'm retired, old enough to see visions and dream dreams, old enough to pay attention.
And besides, out in my garden, hey!--I got rain gauge.
Oh, yeah, and did I mention what those two inches did to the garden? Lush. Really, really lush. Things are lookin' good, if you're wonderin'.
When you're retired there's always something for morning thanks.
And now all I need is a John Deere cap.