Lull in the action

Many of my usual suspects are not writing much lately, but hey, neither am I. What's up with this?

I suppose I could blame a Carteresque malaise - folks not able to cope with the overbearing acceptance of the contemporary land of the not-free and home of the slave.

However, ever the optimist that free men and women will refuse to be afraid and continually free themselves, I choose to believe we are merely taking advantage of a beautiful summer, tending to gardens, loving our loved ones, and playing with puppies and cats.

That's what I've been doing, at least. Oh sure, I feel as oppressed as ever and confused by how easily Big Brother weaseled his way into our lives ... but mostly I'm sedated by the cat that makes himself comfortable in my lap while I type, the sunshine that beckons me from the basement, and the sweetie who likes my company.

And so I presume my fellow blogistas are in similar condition. I cherish their occasional appearances, appreciate those who are still being prolific, and looking forward to writing down some of the thoughts I've been thinking while feeding the birds, maintaining my path through our woods, and thinking of ways to protect the patch of wild St. John's wort we found the other day.

This must be that rest and re-creation we hear rumors of from time to time ...