Chickens and vegetables have been my downfall. The hens are four months old and the raised beds are covered in vines, and carrots past their prime. Only a massive expenditure of energy could bring order to the chaos in my backyard.
As if this wasn’t enough to try the soul of any human, my earthly shell has been afflicted by shingles. In the past week, I have pondered the meaning of pain. A simple virus is teaching me about this important characteristic of life.
In spite of all this, or maybe it is a result, I have decided to put fingertips to keyboard again. This is my first hesitant step.