The Grass is Always Greener

Happy Labor Day readers. There will be a lot of charcoal briquettes burned today. I intend to burn some. It's so nice out today, I don't want to even try to describe it. Each late- summer day seems better than the last. It can't be nice everywhere though. Because of Gustaf and Hanna and the next that starts with "I". "I" of the storm. But here, my God it's good. Sometimes around Groundhog Day I get really sick of the clouds and short days and the cold. I start to imagine where I could move to a simpler life, a little more south maybe. Or the mountains. Wife and I like mountains. Or the seashore. A brownstone flat in Manhattan. Or on the water by a lake or river. Or on a private runway somebody else owns and mows. Or into the hills of West Virginia and build a cabin off the grid. Why do we always look at what we think we want or could have if only we had enough money, or time, or we weren't obligated to do such and so. Oh, the best climate in the world is at so and so. Wouldn't it be neat to live at the beach? We can understand why rich folk have so many houses. This proves the theory that there is no perfect place to live. They've got enough money to buy any place they want, but it doesn't suit them all the time, so they get about five or eight places. That travel from house to house would not suit me, and it's no fantasy of mine. I'm a homebody and I'm done with traveling. Every house is going to be a compromise. Just like any airplane is a compromise. The better a house or airplane is at pleasing you for what it is, the worse it is for doing everything else. Am I making sense? Help me out BD-- our Stearman owner. I walk around my house and grounds and my little tillable acres and everywhere I look there is work to be done and repairs to be made and overdue upgrades which I have no money for. Now ironically I have time for such work, but I don't really feel like doing it. In light of the beautiful weather lately, I've been taking stock of what I have as opposed to what I want, or need, or think I need. Right here, right now, I have all I want and need and more. There is a spiritual aspect to all this. And I'm not very spiritual. And I hate the stupid idea of turning all of one's problems over to God, or Jesus, or whoever your imaginary diety is--and then telling me that I have to do that too in order to fit into your sick guilty world. I try not to turn my troubles over. I try to solve them. And I'm not saying I have squat figured out. I hate it when people say they know whats gonna happen when they die! They simply don't. This is the world. The planet. The creatures. The universe which we havn't as yet been able to understand. Why claim to have a handle on it? You don't. Your letting your imagination and your fears guide you. And you want very much for me to think that way! Sorry, sometimes I rant about believers. Back to my point, the spiritual aspect of getting what you want. The Taoist or the Zen say it better than me, and I can't remember how they say it, but it's something like, "Happiness, balance, and peace come not from seeking and finding and getting what you want. Happiness comes from the elimination of desire of things in the future and the appreciation of things in the present. It sounds too simple. I'm not putting it right. When I make that same walk around my house today, instead of seeing things that need doing in the future, all I see is things to enjoy right now. I'd like to make my whole life more like that. If I could talk to a diety, such as the God of Abraham, who is the God of the Muslims, Christians and Jews, I would say: hey God, I know you're busy busy destroying lives in the Gulf of Mexico, and lots of innocent gentle children are starving and dying of cancer and other diseases, and you're doing nothing to help them, but how 'bout putting some of that rain from Fay, and Gustaf onto my farm and airstrip.. My soybeans are dying your Lordship. Too negative? Of all the places in the U.S. I could live, balancing all factors one against the other, I don't think I can beat the Delmarva Peninsula. Talk to me on Groundhog Day. Now I must wander out and put my tractor away and watch the prettiest sunset ever. The days keep getting shorter and let's enjoy ourselves, after all, we're all busy dying. Gen. Av. Informal.