Bean planting. Briefly the ground was dry enough to fluff into a semblance of tilth, temperatures soared toward 70 degrees of Fahrenheit with brisk winds and fair sky. So it was all very exciting, if you like that kind of thing. There was positivity, a jauntiness, a rakish angle to the sun hat, just the one tick, a Mockingbird sighting, and with a forecast of two, maybe three inches of rain, no need to struggle with the hosepipe. However, the "internal dialogue," if I might borrow a phrase, has been a tad on the wild side for more than a few weeks. I blame this very firmly on Election 2016, and the primary source of my complaint is a suspicion that History is repeating itself. One answer is to follow the example of the Sage Elberry and ignore the "internal dialogue," tell it go away by practicing the songs of Harmony through movement and dance. A reeducation, a spell in the gulag.
Fortunately the "internal dialogue" has a multiplicity of discussions as it
wanders the Cathedrals. It talks to Political Classes, it talks to the Jihadists
as often as it talks to the Erudite and Learned, it talks to the ghosts of men
and women long dead, it spends a lot of time with angels and saints as it walks
sneering through world of finance where it holds the banner "I was actually
looking for the Free Market." But more import to balance, the "internal
dialogue" does have a few things to say about grammar, spelling and punctuation,
all three of them areas where it holds positions that might even be flawed. The
thing about history repeating itself is that it redefines, and by so doing it
redefines us. In other words, what might once have been impossible to
contemplate becomes possible. Or in another way, I might have to dismiss the
"internal dialogue" by joining a Cathedral. Ecce Homo, I guess.