Hidden potential

You knew I’d have another turtle or twenty to tell you about, after that last grand turtle-theft edition of this column.
So it is that three decades ago, I was introduced to the snapping turtle.

I hate it when the Internet is down. I hate it for all the reasons you would expect. I can’t check, send or delete e-mail. I can’t access the Web site that has all of Townes Van Zandt’s lyrics. I can’t search Wikipedia to see if any of the folks listed as notable people from my college are actually anyone I’ve ever heard of. But more than that, I hate it because it makes me see, and confront, how much the thing we used to call, before we had any idea what it really meant, the information superhighway has changed my life.

Triumph over tragedies

The first day of school isn’t fun.

Have you seen a turtle lately? If you come across one, be kind to the old reptile. If it’s braving a busy road, stop and help it across. If one lives in your backyard, leave a flat dish of water, some tomatoes, a peach; I’ve seen them plunge their faces into each of these.

The first day of school isn’t fun.
Exciting? Yes. Filled with anticipation? Sure. A break in the monotony? Not that that’s always a good thing. Fun? Never. I don’t care who you are. Even if you were among that handful of hardcore kids who loved school for whatever reason, that first day wasn’t fun.

Last week, I decided to remove the deck from my riding mower to sharpen the blades.  To remove the deck, all you have to do is pull five pins.  The deck dropped to the ground with a loud thunk!  I sharpened the blades and pumped grease into the little grease cups.  What I failed to do was memorize where the little arms go when you put the deck back on. This was bad, because I lost the owner’s manual years ago. 

Few things can make us feel so helpless and despondent as drought.

Church Events for the week of Aug. 22