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I hate getting wet in another man’s rain… ~ Grandpa

It’s summer in the south…which translates into…hot…humid…dry…days with scattered, pop up thunderstorms…the kind of rains…that…water your neighbor’s grass as you watch from your own parching lawn…or…leave your field to wither and wilt…while the farmer’s across the road is perking up during a good soaking…

I suppose Grandpa got caught in his fair share of the other man’s rains…only to come home to find unsettled dust at our house…at least enough to come up with this bit of wisdom…

Bertha…says it’s all about perspective…and I suppose it is…getting caught in a downpour can either be a celebration or a major frustration…depending on whose lawn is getting watered…and…if it needs the water…

That’s the thing about perspective…it’s wiggly…it changes moment to moment…day to day…just when I think I’ve figured it all out…it changes…

And…maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be…maybe I’m not supposed to have one perspective…concrete…set in stone…never changing…not allowing life to mold and change it…not allowing me to grow…

That feels right to me…that’s my perspective…at least…for today…

Jane