The Native Iowan

First of December. End of the year looms large. Summer is here in QLD, and just like last year, we’re being rained on. Being drowned.

I blame all weather on Glow-Ball warming.

And there are many kinds of weather to report on… the rain, of course, the dry, the in-between. And it’s changing. Every year (every day) the weather changes. Which is just plain wrong. Why can’t it stay the same?

Maybe it’s an age thing? As I age I hurt more, move slower, am less of a risk taker, and have more time to ponder the mundane in life, like the weather.

As far as time-keeping goes, 11 down, 1 to go. Then we get to start all over again. Or do we?

This past year has seen age and health and mortality catch up with a few of my compadres. Sad, inevitable, predictable to a degree.

And the beat do go on. Drummers change, drum majors come and go, but the beat remains, is persistent, consistent…

smile

more later

a nice pict of my good friend Roger and my best friend Nia…