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Flutterby

    Hey, everyone out there in the ether. Carley recently took this photo of a butterfly on our butterfly bush. These bushes attract butterflies. Ours is ten feet tall and covered with purple blooms. When the kids were little they called these creatures flutterbys, which is not a word, but is descriptive.
   It's a little bit slow on the gaming front for the last couple of weeks. Not a lot of exciting new games coming out. Still, tonight is Wednesday and some new ones will be available around 11 o'clock eastern time.
     Our weather has been milder here at the green retreat. Mid eighties; the temperature, not the decade. Not bad for August, especially after that 104, 105 stretch we went through.
    I look forward to not having to mow grass for a few months. Unfortunately, the trees lose their leaves and Mother Nature tends to look ... well... naked. I will soon wish that I had done more this summer. I'll think about all the neat places I could have gone. Realizing this, will I pack up and drive to some cool place like the beach or a national park? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
    The other day, I went through my music library and picked out a few songs for the grand-kids. I thought that they might like to hear what the old folks thought was good, back in the day. (In reality, they probably are not interested.) They really like The Beatles, since the Guitar Hero thing came out with Beatles songs, I guess. I've never played it. The thing is, I found that I had picked out around 400 songs. I used all the blank CD's I had, about 14, and I didn't have enough to finish.
      A few months ago, one of the grand-kids asked me a question. She's a really smart kid and a thinker. She was observing me and her grandmother. She asked wistfully, "Papa, do you still think Granny is beautiful?"
    I said, "Of course, honey. She'll always be beautiful to me."
It bothered me a bit. Was she already trying to deal with the idea that beauty is fleeting? With the shallowness of people and their concern with appearance, rather than the quality of the inner person? I don't know. Love should not be like the fickle butterfly, going from one pretty bloom to another. If that is the extent of it, love would be pretty shabby,don't you think?
    From the writer's green retreat, I'm CE Wills.
   

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