Morning all:

“A gentleman is a man who can play the accordion but doesn’t.” — Unknown

Following the dictum of this week’s quote, and since I can’t and won’t, we’re in great shape. So much so that instead of my usual morning friend – an almost tame cottontail rabbit – this morning there are two sitting in the backyard. The whole scene is so overwhelmingly calming, to the point that I am almost ready to pack it in with this post and just sit on the corner of the deck, coffee mug in hand, and just stare at my buddies.

Alright, I can hear it now, “we caught him!” “He always claims to be an early riser who says he gets up well before dawn, so if that is true how could he see those rabbits? See, he writes that stuff days earlier.”

Actually, I slept in. Last night we had dinner at a friend’s house and it was great. Grilled salmon done up with dill and capers and eventually chased with some well aged Cognac. But that is not the real story.

Ron, my friend, wanted to have a long-promised ride in the Deux Chevaux “The Duck” and I told him that assuming the weather was good Marcia and I would drive it. The only hiccup in the whole scheme was that The Duck’s headlights were, to put it politely, funky.

Years of sitting under a shroud for winter’s months on end took their corrosive toll on the headlight switch. Tuesday evening I took the gizmo apart and inspected it. Wednesday evening I worked several hours cleaning contacts and set out rebuilding the switch.

Then came Thursday evening, by then a slight hint of panic had set in; especially since the car’s floorboards were still very much filled with tools, little screws, and other sorts of bits and pieces. I found myself reflecting on the writings of the philosopher Spinoza and his notion of the interconnectedness of all things and the interdependence of all things. How it all links with Gaia and with the determination of physicists to arrive at a Theory of Everything.

I guess he was at least partially right since within an hour I had all reassembled and working. Last night, Marcia and I, top down, drove across town and finally came tooling down Ron and Barb’s drive with both cylinders clicking merrily (much like an old Pfaff sewing machine)—with our headlights blazing brightly.

If I have it right, this afternoon I am being volunteered to partner with my buddy Marin to help clean the city park above Marin’s house. Tomorrow it will be a family outing to the little town of Peebles, about an hour’s drive east of here. If luck holds out, while in Peebles, Marcia will get to pick out a weeping willow tree to be planted in the swampland on the southwest corner of our property.

Make it a great week everyone. As you celebrate Mother’s Day tomorrow I thought of George Orwell who once stated; “each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it.” As he found out, while we might think ourselves as the most intelligent ever we are dead wrong. The most intelligent, wisest, ever are our Moms.

Cheers,
Dirk