Am I the only one who's worn to a frazzle? You don't even have to know what a frazzle is. If you're worn down to one… you know it!
Perhaps it's old age setting in. (And that's a very likely scenario.) Perhaps it's the incessant wind that sweeps over these plains in April. While we'd love to recite something sweet like "April showers bring May flowers," we're more likely to whine "This brown sky is making me cry."
While I sit at my computer in my second floor office, listening to the walls creak from the "balmy breezes," with my fairly air-tight windows keeping out the drought enhanced dust, I'll just take another moment to remind us all of those hearty pioneers who came before us.
They bumped along on dirt roads in wagons. They pumped their own water. They grew their own green beans. They gathered their own eggs. They had no buttons to push so instant hot air or instant cold air would come flowing out of vents in the ceiling. My, oh my! They were amazingly tough.
It wasn't that long ago. I'm spoiled beyond comprehension. I'll go about this day appreciating my pampered and luxurious life. Care to join me?
Sandy keeps an online journal at her website www.field-days.com. E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org.