Despite being a big fan of those apocalyptic fictions as a young man and secretly wishing for the end of everything, I didn't anticipate what that would mean or how it would come or how long it would take. Unlike fictions where aliens, or an infection, or nuclear war, or some unknown terror bring the end, the true end will come through the very nature of humanity ourselves. Our predilection for selfishness. Our ease with which we anger. Our misapplied patriotism. Our general stupidity and aversion to intelligence. The dullest mocking and jeering while educated, literate ones attempt to teach and warn of coming perils. People rejecting that which is in their best interest while gleefully embracing those whose policies pander to their fears and prejudices.
After my recovery period for Covid, I went to Cullman on Monday the 8th and started catching up on the mowing and farm stuff. Pretty much everything needed mowing. The big tractor made short work on the main north fields and David helped me with the field across from the pond. The grass had grown quite long and with the two week absence, I simply started and mowed all of them. There is always some mowing to do. At least no trees had fallen. There were some indoor projects pending. A couple of shower fixtures had to be replaced. The screen door latch didn't hold and had to be improved. The old JD mower needed a bit of tuning so it would climb better and the mowing deck replaced. And the garden needed to be disked and more corn and okra planted. David should have had a shot on the groundhog at the old house but forgot to check his ammo. The hammer fell on an empty chamber. I got the conibear traps out and caught one of the groundhogs that lived by the spring. David had ...