Day 168

Treasure on a dead end road

Yep. It’s another barn. I almost missed it because I was looking for a place to turn around. I needn’t have worried because this dead end road went on for quite a distance. In fact, when I did find a driveway in which I could make my turn, the road went on beyond the immediate horizon. Someday I’ll drive to the end. I did that once in Kentucky, though at the time I didn’t know it was a dead end road, because it wasn’t marked. I was on a nicely paved county road that turned into a potholed road that turned into a gravel road that ended in a farmer’s front yard. It was a scenic drive.


It is closing in on 11:30 a.m. with Cindy and Mason still asleep. I know I’ve beaten this dead horse before (poor horsie), but I don’t know how they do it. I fell asleep around 1:30 this morning and was up and getting coffee by 6:45. I took the above photo around 7:30. I’ve watched my Sunday morning television, burned a couple cd’s for friends, and have started composing this post. I may take a nap this afternoon, but if Cindy has her way I’ll be working in the yard during the heat of the mid-afternoon. Yay.

I am obviously the only person in this household who thinks morning is the best time of day. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a home where the only reason you slept late was because you worked third shift. Of course when I worked a third shift I would stay up through the morning and sleep in the afternoon whenever I could. I say again, “Morning is the best part of the day.”


 I was listening to Anne-Sophie Mutter and the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Herbert von Karajan, perform Beethoven’s Violin Concerto this morning. There is something about Sunday mornings that often causes me to listen to either classical music or jazz. Many people say that classical music and jazz are intellectual pursuits. I’m sure that is true for the composers and musicians, but for me they speak only to my emotions. I’m not a religious person, so instead of going to church to get my spiritual uplift on Sunday I listen to music that lifts me up, and sometimes brings me down. Different strokes.