Maggie's Farm

Happiness is like those rare knocked-out gorgeous weather days. For me, at my latitude and attitude, they're around October for the most part, and the select days never number more than probably around a dozen in a year.

Sometimes, rarely, these champagne days will string together two, three, four, five days running -and then bang, they could pile up on each other and last until the next wet hurricane hits the coast a few hundred mile south.

But i digress. So someday round the third day of Glory, glory is already relatively long in the tooth considering its usual stay is just the day or two of calm dry robin-egg-blue air behind a blue norther. But you're still extra zesty, you're still feeling like Apollo, but he is taking note that the thin topsoil of Olympus is quickly getting pretty dang dry. The heavenly weather is becoming less Joy ton the World and more a high pressure dome occluding all popup moisture fronts, and if El Nino forces the Canadian jet stream another damn few mile south the dome may nail itself to the ground and become a year-long --or more -- catastrophic drought.

The Lilies of the Field toil not --because they never have time (apologies to Matthew and Luke).

That's the ground William Styron plowed in the impossible-for-good-endingsSophie's Choice. He look at Solomon's Judgement and wondered if anything worse of a choice could possibly be presented. He decided to have Sophie consent to Solomon, because --she had two babies, not the one. So she was able to live on for the survivor child. But you probably know how it turned out --she never had a choice, she was doomed by the question.

PS, should add, Frankl was spared knowledge his wife had died --she was in another camp, and the isolation was deliberately total. He learned the news after the war was over and the system survivors emerged from the camps. So he was hit hard at the same time from opposite directions --and thus, didn't fall.