It's been raining since odark thirty. When you live in a little tin box the rain pounding on your roof does not lull you to sleep. Jack hammers make less noise. Since I am in my beloved woods the pain is easier to accept. I'm taking a break from the crazy gloom and doom that is threatening to destroy my part of paradise. The thought of having to leave Florida and never return is taking a toll on my sanity. The water polluted, the land polluted, and the air polluted, with no place to hide. Dear God I hope that never happens. What will be will be. I'm trying to take a trip up to Michigan before the cold season starts up there, and each time I get ready something keeps me here. I have a close friend getting ready to meet his maker.
I'm also getting to the age where close friends and more family members have some pretty intense health issues. Damn more gloom and doom. Think sunshine. One of those friends has a great attitude. "A time for all seasons. A time for living, and a time for dying. Live every day like it was your last." He will not see the new year. He says he is happy knowing how much time he has left. He can get all his affairs ready. The pain can be handled with medications, and all his friends, and family can say good by. I'm not sure how I would handle knowing what time I had left.
The rain has let up to just a drizzle, so I think I'll go outside, set up the lawn chair under the awning, and drink a fresh cup of coffee. Smell the fresh air, and thank God for his gift of another day. Tomorrow will come, and life will go on. Something to be thankful for.