Rex Gave Me A WWI Artillery Shell

I added something wonderful to our garden yesterday – a World War I artillery shell.

My friend Rex works at a site that was once used for artillery practice and his workmen occasionally uncover practice shells when they’re digging so he brought one home for me.

I’m delighted.

Even though it’s hollowed out – no explosive, of course, the thing weighs over 40 pounds.

Cool!

What a macho thing to display among the flowers along with the statue of Aphrodite and that Aborigine carving.

(I’ll borrow Eve’s camera this weekend and try to post some pictures if I can figure out how to make the computer do that). (Another thought, Donald did post some pictures of our 2002 garden on my website at www.cowart.info but it’s time for some new ones).

Really, I like the yard-art stuff I’ve accumulated over the years as much as I like the garden’s flowers per se – you don’t have to weed artillery shells.

Ginny, of course, tolerates my predilection for yard art. When I bought a carving at a yard sale once she said, “O well, one man’s trash is another man’s trash”.

God, but I love her!

We sat out by the fountain late yesterday evening trying to identify an odd bird which we’d never seen before. None of our bird books even give us a hint.

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time this week reading other people’s blogs and I find them fascinating. It seems the more unhappy people are over life and relationships, the more they write. I feel such pity and often pray for many of the folks I read about.

The computer system skips from blog to blog at random so it's hard to return to one when I find one that appeals to me or a person I come to care about.

I'm really happy to see so many people keeping track of their lives. For over 20 years I've kept a daily journal and I've found it invaluable, probabally the most important thing I've ever written, so I view bloging as a fine thing for people to do. (Excerpts from some of my old journals are on my website, www.cowart.info if anybody cares)

My own life is so happy on so many levels but joy does not make for the high drama that drives writers to literature. So many of my days can be bloged with ditto marks.

I actually made a comment on a blog this morning. The first time ever I think. I’ve started to a couple of times but I feel uncomfortable, maybe even intrusive when I really have some insight or comfort to offer. I'm not sure about the rules of courtesy when it comes to internet blogs. But the one I was reading today, Funky Bug, is by a vivacious, clever lady who apparently lives downstate and who had eight other comments going about a computer problem — Donald was complaining about the same site/server problems last night — I just joined the line of commenters..