World View

Each time I run to the cabin I pass a half-cut oak tree.  Why did someone abandon this month of fine firewood?  Did a forest ranger shoo him or her away with a citation?  Licenses used to be a bit of a joke.  For $25, you received a permit to cut dead trees and remove lying timber.  You were supposed to log each time you removed a truckload, so you made an entry once in a while.

To me, it's great-looking firewood.  To you, it might be an eyesore.  In a nest of honeybees inhabiting a fallen tree,  I see a swarm for an empty hive and sweet stuff to harvest.  You might see a hefty exterminator's bill.  Last weekend my sister saw the promise of patio furniture in a rusting metal table.  Someone else we know recently described the best shaving experience ever.  A disposable razor felt so fine.  When she finished, she discovered she hadn't removed its plastic guard. 

Chy (pronounced "shy"), the most recent addition to our livestock pantry, looks like a pet to many.  To Karen, Chy is: (1) a guardian (donkeys protect chickens, goats and turkeys from coyotes and foxes); (2) a producer of extremely nutritious milk; and (3) a friendly pet.

"Think plow," says Virginia.

True.  Maybe Chy will help me in the garden, burning grass instead of gas.