Time. How utterly, unspeakably precious this scanter-than-gold-and-more-valuable commodity—unavailable on the open market—grows with each passing season.

My annual battle with the grass is under way.
Just a day or so ago I waded through embarrassingly high, hip high in places, grass, alternately pushing and dragging a mower. In fairness to me, I had mowed the half acre immediately around the house. So this wasn’t my first time on the lawn. It was, however, the first time that really counted, the first time I mowed everything, or nearly everything, I’ve got to mow. 

On April 29th, I attended the annual spring presentation of the Wytheville Community College Concert Band.  This particular program, entitled April Flowers, served as the finale for the band’s eighteenth season.  I always enjoy attending these free concerts, which occur twice annually and are open the public, this particular performance being one of the best I have seen from the instrumental ensemble.
Their opening number, The Courier Journal March, was composed by R.B. Griffith in honor of his hometown of Louisville, Kentucky.  Published in 1961, this tune was actually written a decade earlier and was originally titled The Red M March, in honor of Manuel High School where he served as band director.  The particular rendition of this number featured a specific arrangement by Wytheville Community College Concert Band director, Bill Svec. 

Humphrey, the one-hump camel, came up the gravel path leading to the barn. 
They saw him coming, noticing that Harriet, the pesky ostrich, followed close behind.  Such a rare visit from the Ft. Chiswell Animal Park raised curiosity among the barn denizens.  Tongues wagged faster than a cat’s tail in a room full of rocking chairs.

Thanks a lot scientists of the year 2006.
Before you rode in on Rocinante, penning some new definition of the word “planet,” life was easy. Back then there were nine planets. Even if we didn’t exactly, precisely and for sure and certain know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what we all meant when we said planet, we knew there were nine of them. Now we aren’t so sure. Worse, we don’t know what to say when our 6-year-old sons ask if there are eight planets in the solar system.

Again this week, it is my pleasure to call to attention the amazing amount of local artistic talent the young people of the Wytheville area possess.  On April 27, I was very happy to attend the final performance of the Wythe One Voice at the Wytheville Baptist Church.  Wythe One Voice is a collective choir consisting of a group of young people from several different churches in the area who come together annually to perform a praise and worship concert for the public, expressing their unified devotion to God.  The idea of this collaboration was the brainchild of Jennifer Mullins, wife of Wytheville Baptist Church Pastor Rusty Mullins who formed the group in May 2005.  As a result, a wonderful ministry led by some of Wytheville’s finest and most talented youth and young adult Christians was formed.

Ratchet Arnold broke the morning silence at the barn.
“Pope Benedict is coming,” he said.

We live in paradise. I noticed it on May Day, songbirds and creekbirds flitting through my little woods, butterflies floating over the flowers, fat bumblebees bumping clumsily into each other through the blooming bushes.

Fans of country music in general and the Carter Family in particular will want to see Barter Theatre’s “Keep on the Sunny Side” during the month of May.  Written by Doug Pote, it is the most-requested Barter show.

He sometimes – OK most times – doesn’t know when to run. And when he’s on second forget it.