Another weekend, a new Fall

This weekend started with a trip over to Cissie's home to sit under the trees and among the bushes and relax in the coolness of the beginning of Autumn. Everything is relatively dry, but the breezes are beginning to cool and it was rather delightful to sit on her porch among the evergreens and relax. Afterward, we drove down to Slice's pizza place and had a beer, salad and a couple of slices of pizza. The pizza slices are so huge there that we were forced to take some home for the next day. But, there again, it was pleasant to sit around a cast iron outdoor table and watch the cars drift by up and down Solomon Street and the young high school students walk over down to the stadium for the Friday night football game between Spalding And Peach County. After we left Cissie's house and it finally became dark, Cindy and I stopped by Brewsters and ordered pumpkin and apple-pie flavored ice cream. It was delightful and we finally got to bed.

The next day, Cindy and I were going to pick up Cissie and drive over to Concord for a photographic exhibit. Unfortunately, Cindy didn't feel up to it and so I drove over to Concord for a loan closing. The drive through the country was pleasant, the farmland rolling along as I drove to the Borrower's house. I met with the borrowers and their daughter gave me a card she had drawn for me. That was a first. I thanked her for the card and brought it home for Cindy's inspection.

That afternoon, Cindy and I travelled up to Cobb County to watch the Atlanta Opera perform Puccini's "Turandot." Turandot is an opera composed in the twenties by Puccini and was incomplete when he died. Another composer completed the opera after he died. The story of the opera is set in China. The daughter of the Emperor, Turandot, had decided that any man who would dare to attempt to court her should answer three riddles. If he failed, the man would be executed. The scene at the beginning of the opera is decorated with pikes with the heads of her potential suitors stuffed on top, these pikes interposed throughout the scenery. The first act shows the execution of one of these suitors and the singers in the crowd are about as bloodthirsty as the princess.

However, the hero, Calaf, ignores the bloodthirstiness of the Princess and wants to court her. For some unknown reason, the inscrutable oriental is able to look beyond the crazy bloodthirstiness of the princess and wants to marry her despite her character idiosyncrasies.

The second act shows the hero answering the riddles of the princess and, in turn, giving her a riddle to solve: to find out his name before dawn breaks. If she does, he dies. If she doesn't, she must marry him. The third act begins with Calaf lying in a forest or garden, listening to Peking awaken to try to find out the name of the suitor. He sings the only major aria from the opera: "nessun dorma." In this aria, he sings a plea to the awakened citizens of Peking, trying to get everyone to be quiet so that his beloved will have to marry him.

Nevertheless, despite the torture of his former beloved servant and her subsequent suicide, the hero is left with the princess, where he courts her and kisses her. This is the part of the opera which stretches the imagination. You are required to believe that with very little prompting and just one kiss, the princess can change all of her preconcieved notions about men and fall in love with him. When this kiss happened on stage and the princess suddenly fell for the suitor, the crowd at the opera tittered at the silliness of the story.

The opera ends with the princess and the suitor brought together in love. Love is the ultimate weapon which melts the heart of the ice princess and brings her into the relationship with the suitor. Overall, the music and the pageantry and show of the opera was very nice. Usually, I suppose, you are not supposed to look to an opera for a great plot and reasonable, believable story. It is the music and the color and the span of the presentation that grabs you.

It was also nice that the new hall in Cobb County was brand new and shining with its first performance sparkle. Unfortunately, Cindy couldn't walk to the car, so I had to drive around and around the area to get to her. When I finally picked her up, most of the crowd was gone and we were able to quickly drive down to Howell Mill Road to eat at Figo Pasta. That night, we ate a late supper of pasta and salad and Italian wine in the coolness and darkness of Figo Pasta.

We got home about 12:30 and had to go to bed as soon as possible. The next morning, I woke up late and groggy and missed Sunday School. When Cindy finally got out of bed, I made steel cut oatmeal for both of us and then quickly showered, shaved and dressed for church. Dr. Ben Mathes, a missionary from Decatur,was preaching in the pulpit and he was his usual arresting speaker. He spoke about his work and told us a story about when his son, a marine captain, asked him to come to Iraq. Of course he did, and he was imbedded as a "journalist" in his son's marine brigade. When he and the other Presbyterian minister from Dunwoody were looking for "ieds" in trash cans and boxes with the other marines, his son was amazed at his father's courage. Ben said it was his faith in God and the surrounding marines which allowed him to do this. He also told a story about a drug dealer in the Brazilian jungle who had left a life of drug dealing to become a Presbyterian minister, and how they planned to tear down the old drug selling house and use the same building materials to build a Presbyterian Church in the jungle. He challenged us (First Presbyterian) to come down to Brazil and sail down the Amazon on the boat for which we raised money and help this new minister build a new church in the jungle. I would love to do this. Cindy thought Kate would like to do this too.

That afternoon, Cindy and I drove down to Concord and looked over the photographic display. It was fun and we got to talk to Walker Chandler for awhile. He is a good guy, for a Wahoo.

Well, now I am in the office trying to get ready for the next morning. I will leave with this. This weekend was pretty good overall and the coming week has new challenges. I hope we can work this out. I am looking forward to next weekend up in Clinton.

Foreclosure day-October 2

Well, next Tuesday is foreclosure day and a law firm which employs us to cry out foreclosure sales is asking us to drive all over Georgia. I kind of wish that Kate was at home because I could send her on some of these. Without her, Patti and I are going to be driving all over the north part of the state. Hall, Lumpkin, Gilmer, Bartow, Cherokee, Polk, Troup, Carroll, Forsyth, Muscogee, Macon counties. That cuts quite a wide swath through Georgia. I feel a little like Sherman planning the march through Georgia. Come to think of it, I don't think Sherman had to travel that much.

It seems like some of these closings are cutting loose and it would be nice to keep some of these bill payments coming in on a regular basis. Everyone has his hands out; why not me too?

Envy's green bayou in Louisiana

I have been reading a new book written by one of the PHDs over at the University of Georgia, Griffin campus (the Experiment Station, for those of you old timers). This book is an abridged version of a diary that the writer kept when she and her former boyfriend (?) were living on a houseboat on a bayou in Southeastern Louisiana. This took place in the 1970's when a lot of students were "tuning out" to borrow a phrase from Dr. Leary. This couple were raised in Louisiana and went to live off the land in a houseboat in Atchafalaya. They ran trot lines, raised crawfish and chickens and lived off bartering with their neighbors. It is an interesting book, albeit somewhat short (Which is apparently the comment of the writer's former housemate, when she sent him a draft).

The troubling part of this book is the poetic tone of the writing. The writer, who is a PHD at the Griffin campus of UGA is quite poetic in her writing style. It really appeals to me, but also bothers me in the sense that I really appreciate her writing and wish to emulate her tone, if not her style.

Now I understand that the book is abridged and probably a lot of the passages that were less than literary or poetic may have found their way to the editorial wastebasket. However, what is left is quite ably depicted in her prose. When she describes the terrain or the life they lead on the bayou it is quite literary. I am sorry that it is only about 200 pages long.

There was a National Geographic article on them which was illustrated by a photographer. I would like to find that issue and take a look at the series of pictures he took of the young couple out in the bayou and at home on the houseboat.

Well, anyway, my envy apparently knows no bounds here so I will let it go for awhile.

Wednesday morning bouncing ball

As we head toward the weekend once again, I am looking at the business ahead and what will get the week's expenses handled. I am looking forward to weekends in the future with Kate's homecoming, weekends spent among the scarlet and orange of the Autumn in North Georgia. I am even looking toward the opera in Cobb County this weekend. The only part of this which is a little of concern is the efforts of Cindy to get the rooms cleared out for installation of flooring in the living room, dining room, master bedroom and the two bedrooms upstairs which makes me think about the oncoming efforts. Cindy would like to me her mother in this regard. But I would like Cindy to be herself and lets gain a balance between rest and relaxation and the things which need to be done.

Last weekend was nice. We took care of things and still had time to watch (or listen to) a little football and browse through the Barnes & Nobles in Jonesboro. Cindy got to extend her birthday for another weekend and we got to see my family.

I am looking forward to the new flooring in the house. I think it will make our house look nicer. However, I would like to have some time of enjoyment among the leaves and cool breezes of the Fall. I do like the Fall and the Spring. They are my favorite seasons. However, I also like the Summer and Winter. I don't really like to have to pick. There are good times to be had and remembered in every season.

I guess the main thing is to find the enjoyment in every season. To grab the sweetness of every day. To turn the everyday into the unique by keeping your eyes open and your heart available to the things we lose sight of when we lose ourselves in the business of living. That poem by Wordsworth, "The World is too much with us; late and soon" always springs to mind. I guess I always return to the Romantic poets in the end. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Keats, Blake. Even Shelley and Byron, although they are definitely second tier.

"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON"

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

By William Wordsworth, 1806.

It may be cheap to quote Wordsworth, but this poem is definitely one of my favorites, one that springs to mind quite often. And it conveys the essence of my heart this morning.

By-leman: fraternal twins

The stranger of two close connections:
The spawn of two eggs and the second place sperm
Wiggling down the canal, too late for the win
But just in time for the show.
A birth with complications,
Meaning two babies, one couple
A fully-developed family right at birth
And two little wrinkled creatures
Mewling together in the bassinet bought for one
Like puppies snuggling to their bitch.

Once upon a time that second prize
Might be considered the spawn of Satan
And, who knows, perhaps this one or that one
will show the same proclivities
Or the cloven feet, or a billy goat's laugh
They might develop so differently until they've grown
Fair and dark countenances
The good and bad seeds
Come to fruition together
The sins and virtues of their parents come to roost
But sleeping in the baby blue blanket together,
Two little brothers,
Who's to say which angel is not?

Just a passing distinction
For neighbors on a fence
Or a difference of opinion
Between removed kin.
There is so much growing still to do.

Kate the Great

My daughter's on the Dean's List. My daughter's on the Dean's List. My daughter's on the Dean's List. La La La.

I have always been very proud of my little girl. She was a perfect little baby when she was born. She didn't fuss much or cry in the middle of the night. She was a Gerber baby (not literally) but came out so perfect. A 10 on the Apgar scale.

As she got older, she was fun to be with and was very precocious (I think that is how you spell that). I used to take her around on day trips to different places and we would joke and sing in the car as we travelled. It was fun.

Now she is a pretty, bright young lady and I am sure she has a bright future ahead of her. Unfortunately, she acquired a bit of anxiety from her paternal grandmother and me that bothers her some. But that is something she could treat with exercise and relaxation tips. I am sure of it. I look forward to her graduation in May. I think she made the right choice when she decided to go to Presbyterian. She has been a leader and a voice on her campus while she has been there. She has stretched herself and still shown her sense of humor and intelligence.

A new week

Monday was so much fun. It didn't get better until the late afternoon. Even that wasn't a sure thing until I had had a chance to go to the grocery and sit down and eat supper. I had to deal with a borrower from a closing I did in 2004. Patti didn't get the taxes paid for several weeks after the closing and the tax lien was sold to a private company who put interest and penalties on top of it which the borrower didn't want to pay, since the taxes weren't paid until later. Unfortunately, we never received notice of the sale of the taxes until after it was too late and the borrower didn't pay the difference when the situation presented itself in early 2005. Of course, I didn't hear about this until much later. Then, when the borrower and I spoke he was already mad and Fulton County, who bore some responsibility for the mess, wasn't willing to do anything about the problem.

So I drove up to Chamblee and met with him. All the time, the borrower is saying that he wasn't mad at me and understood the situation, but then he called me in my car as I was driving back home to tell me that the agreement I had prepared was short $25 and he wouldn't get it to the judge unless that $25 was paid to him immediately. Twentyfive dollars!

Next up I get a call from a person I had dealt with last year who wanted to transfer title to his sister in California to avoid creditors from liening his property. We made the transfer and I told the sister that there was a good chance that the taxes could go up because of the transfer. Well, now the taxes have gone up, like everyone else's, and they are griping at me for it happening.

Finally, I had a closing last night and all during the closing the parties are talking about the terrible time they had at their first closing because of the errors in the closing documents. All the while this is happening I am remembering that I was the closing attorney on that closing. As Uncle Remus said, "Brer Rabbit, he lay low." The closing went well and everybody left happy. I was able to discuss the matter with Patti, remembering that this would have been one of the first closings Patti did when she went to work for me in Mr. Smalley's office.

The day ended with a final opportunity to talk to Andy Glenn, the insurance dude, who found insurance for us which would cover us all and cost about $400 over what we are paying for coverage for only Kate and me. That was a big victory. I came home with the desire to share this good news with Cindy and she starts griping at me about the bookcase in the living room as soon as I walk into the house.

Oh well, we ate pizza and I had salad and everything mellowed down later. It was fun. It was a mixed bag, but overall bearable.

The good and bad of a weekend

Saturday was a long day which offered quite a lot of fun and sobering thought. At first Cindy and I drove up to Stockbridge and did a little shopping at a flooring store. We found some stuff that we liked, borrowed some samples, and then drove on toward Dunwoody. On the way, Cindy decided that she wanted to stop at the J C Penny Outlet Store. This huge building off I-75 sits above the highway and is some place that I always glance at on my way north or south, but for which I have rarely stopped.

This time, Cindy wanted to look and see if they had an entertainment center which would hold the television set that Kevin and Susan gave us. The television is a dinosaur which is so large that it doesn't really fit anywhere in our house. At any rate, Cindy and I stopped in the store and looked around. They had no entertainment centers, had a food prep table which we thought about buying (but which had insurmountable problems due to the way the drawers were installed in the box) and ended up buying four red kitchen chairs and a small box radio, which I am listening too, kind of, in my office.

Anyway, we drove on to Dunwoody where Cindy opened birthday presents and then Cindy and Momma went on to Perimeter to shop. Dad and I sat in the kitchen and watched football for several hours. Finally, Kevin and Susan came over with the girls and we talked with them for awhile. That evening, we ate at Olive Garden, where I ate light with a salad and pasta with tomato sauce. It was good.

That night, the dessert came when Georgia upset Alabama in Tuscaloosa. That was fun. Oh, and W&L won as well, although I didn't find about that until Monday morning.

Sunday, we drove over to Jonesboro and ate at Cracker Barrel. I had roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and cabbage. As I was paying, I told the cashier that my meal was good but that I didn't get as much roast beef as I would have at my momma's house. I then told her that there had to be some compensation for eating with your mother.

That afternoon, the Falcons got beat, surprise, and the afternoon drifted into a torpor of tiredness and concern about the dealings ahead on Monday. I would have liked to go to a movie or get some exercise.

The sadness of this weekend revolved around indications that my father is drifting off a bit into the last phase of his life. As we sat at the Olive Garden I looked at and watched my mother and father. Momma is the same person, bubbly and personable and very young looking for her age. But Dad seemed to be weighed down by the years a bit. He had difficulty hearing people talking, seemed a step behind on conversations, and didn't participate as quickly in the evening. This is the beginning of that last phase, I am afraid. We need to draw around him and make sure that these days are as connected with him because these moments are so precious.

Cindy thought I needed to make sure that Frank and his family come up and participate in holiday fun. When you are away for long times, you don't have the opportunity to see and guage the subtle changes in personality and temperment. Frank needs to see that as Susan and I can.

Seasons of life.

Psalm

Thank God for the end of this week!

Those high school years

Well, by now you have had an opportunity to digest my skills in dialogue. I always thought that I handled dialogue well and that I would be a better playwright than a novelist. I know in ninth grade, I wrote two miniature plays for English class and got quite a reception. Ninth grade was a dreary time when I was at the old Peachtree High School. The principal was ready to retire and he would pretty much allow anything to happen to ensure that the boat stayed smoothly rocking towards his ultimate retirement. In the meantime, the lassez faire attitude was communicated to the student body and pretty much anything went. Couples were groping in the stairwells (particularly Pat Burke and Shan Gastineau). Classrooms emptied when the teachers turned to face the board. In the afternoon, the parking lots were full of students, ditching class in full view, socializing on their cars. That was probably just the surface of what was going on.

I hated it. I couldn't wait to transfer to Dunwoody when it opened. The atmosphere was much more controlled and disciplined (even for the early 70's).

Anyway, my favorite class was English with Ms. Gilbert. In the third quarter she split the class into groups and had us rewrite and perform an act each of Romeo and Juliet and then do a second play afterward. I was so excited that I went home and wrote an entire one act play in an afternoon. I took it back to school the next day and everyone liked it. After we performed it, Ms. Gilbert gave it to one of the upper grade English teachers who read it to his class. It was finally nominated to the Dekalb County Arts Fair and won a second place ribbon. I was excited.

My second play was a western, which had some good parts but I had to play the lead myself and I didn't like acting much. Oddly, my Juliet ended up being an actress. How really ironic.

Anyway, that was a good time. I later wowed them with a rendition of Patrick Henry's 'Give Me Liberty' speech. My speech took forty minutes to do and I just performed it without a break (with the exception of an announcement over the loud speaker which forced me to stop for a few minutes while we heard about something really important). That was probably the precurser to my leadership years at Dunwoody. It was only the next year when I was speaking before the student body, running for student body president.

Dunwoody was so much better. I think John Boswell and I were the only students who really enjoyed Dunwoody High School. Even with all the embarrassment and growing pains. Oh well.

The hearing

Today, which isn't over by a long shot, has already been a long day. However, there have been some interesting things which have happened. I went to a hearing calendar for Spalding Superior Court at 9:00 this morning. When no judge or district attorney personnel showed up, the Clerk ultimately showed up around 9:30 and informed us that court had been postponed until 11:00. I then showed up at 11:00. The doors to the courtroom on the third floor were locked and sheriff's deputies posted at the door to let only law enforcement personnel and attorneys who were willing to sit in the courtroom and not leave into the courtroom. Apparently, the defendant who was sitting in the courtroom had people in Miami, really bad, connected people, who were threatening him or someone else with bodily injury or worse. Nothing like a little excitement to race the heart a little.

Anyway, the Judge didn't show up from Fayette County in the morning, so court was postponed until 1:00. At 1:00, I went up to the third floor courtroom; the double doors were wide open at the time. I entered the courtroom past the bailiff and looked for a chair near the door. As I began to sit down, the Judge, who was sitting on the bench already, said in a fairly loud voice, "What are you doing here, Tom?"

Being surprised by his presence in the courtroom and a little nonplused by the question, I jumped up from the chair, approached the bench and asked, "Where do you want me to be, judge?"

He smiled at that and replied, "Nowhere else, necessarily. I just don't see you in this court that often."

"Well," I said, "I seem to get one felony criminal case a year."

"But I thought I had seen you earlier in the year already?"

"I don't remember that, judge. However, I have to feed the babies, you know."

"Well, that's true. I remember when I was practicing, I'd just about grab whatever came through the door."

Shaking my head, I answered, "That is true."

I left the area in front of the bench and sat back down and waited for court to start. Very soon thereafter, the new Assistant District Attorney entered the courtroom and noticed me in my seat. He asked me if I wanted to talk to the judge. I quickly agreed and we approached the bench.

As I approached the bench, I asked the judge, "Judge, may we discuss something with you."

"Sure, Tom," he said.

"Your honor," I began, "I have a case on your calendar, and..."

"What kind of a case?"

"A drug case, your honor."

"Its on your calendar, judge," the ADA offered.

"Yes, toward the back, judge," I added.

"OK, well, what do you want, gentlemen."

"Well, your honor, the assistant district attorney has offered a plea bargain which we are prone to accept; however, my client is only 17 years old and its his first offense and we would like to get first offender treatment..."

"What's he charged with?"

"Well, that's the problem. He is charged with possession of less than an ounce of marihauna and," my voice got a little weaker, "possession of meta-amphetamine."

The judge raised his eyebrows, "Tom, you had me until then."

"Your honor, I know that you don't ordinarily give first offender treatment on such a charge, and I wouldn't even make the request if he had a record, but he is only seventeen and..." My voice trailed off.

The judge looked down at his papers, "Tom, I wouldn't do this just for anyone, but I'll do it for you, just this time."

My heart skipped, "Thank you judge, thank you."

He looked at me critically, "Let's not sentence him today or tomorrow."

The ADA interjected, "Yes sir."

The judge turned to his court reporter, "Take the _____________ case off for today and tomorrow."

I stepped back from the bench and walked crab-wise away from the judge and leaned into the assistant district attorney. "Let's do the sentence on the 5th of October."

"That'll be fine."

I looked back into the crowd in the courtroom, caught the eyes of my client and his family and motioned for them to follow me out of the courtroom. As we met together in marbled gallery outside the courtroom, I smiled and said, "The judge agreed to the first offender treatment."

A quick smile came over my client's face and his mother sighed deeply, "Thank God."

"Let's get out of here."

The elevator opened and we escaped with our prize: a bit more freedom and the chance for the boy to show his repentance to the world. I bounced off the surface of the floor for the rest of the day. Even a short hearing in Magistrate's Court at three thirty couldn't keep my feet on the ground. A day later and I could still feel the electricity in my arms.

Little victories

Things do go right sometimes. Today, I had a criminal case and all I wanted to do was get my client first offender treatment so he wouldn't have a felony record on him after he finished his probation. The problem arose when we found out who the judge was who was going to preside on his case: Judge Johnnie Caldwell, Jr. Johnnie, the district attorney when I was a young lawyer, was rather hardnosed, prosecutorial and didn't ordinarily give first offender treatment on such a case.

I felt that our possibility of keeping this conviction off my client's record was very slight. However, when the assistant district attorney and I approached the bench, Judge Caldwell agreed to give my client first offender treatment because "it was me." That felt good and everybody was happy in the end. Sometimes it feels good to be an attorney and work something out for your client. All the stress is gone and everybody is happy with me.

The old man does ok from time to time.

Passing the bar

The height of stress one suffers from lawyering involves a three-fold process. The simple task of laying down that line causes me to question the statement, the number of processes and my ability to successfully undertake this explanation. However, I suppose that it is the nature of writing that allows me to continue, despite the possibility of errors in the action.

1. Mastery of the law and facts. The first aspect of the practice of law which causes practitioners stress requires a knowledge of the laws which might apply in the case as they are applied to the facts of the case. I understand that though he was extremely untutored in contrast with a lot of other lawyers of his day, Abraham Lincoln was considered a good lawyer in his time, which contrasts with the rustic portrait we acquired as school children. Our simplified portrait of Lincoln consists of log cabins, rail-splitting, candles and writing out his lessons on a coal scuttle with a piece of coal. The picture of Lincoln does not include matriculation at a university or college. As a matter of fact, his only schooling involved some time spent in a one room school house on the flatlands of Indiana.

However, Lincoln was considered a good enough lawyer that he found his way into the listes with some of the best educated lawyers of his day. In studying Lincoln as a lawyer, I have found that his foremost gift as a lawyer was the ability to read the facts of the case. In a book I read as a law student, I read about a case in which Lincoln appeared as counsel for a railroad in Indiana. A train track had been laid across a railroad bridge over a river somewhere in Indiana. A boatsman attempted to navigate the currents passing under the railroad bridge. Apparently, the boatsman lost control of the boat and crashed against the bridge. The boatsman sued the railroad for damages and Lincoln found himself defending the railroad in the suit.

Prior to trial, Lincoln apparently travelled to the scene of the accident and studied the river and its currents as they travelled under the bridge. He even had a young boy sail paper boats downriver into the currents surrounding the bridge. After several hours spent watching the paper boats floating under the bridge, Lincoln knew enough about the facts of the currents and the affect of the bridge on those currents that he was able to argue to the judge and jury about the facts of the case in such a way that he exemplified a far better handle on the facts than opposing counsel and their experts. His ability to determine the factual basis for the lawsuit overcame his lack of formal education in the law.

In any given suit, whether civil or criminal, any number of statutory and common laws may apply to the facts of the case. One requirement of being a lawyer requires one to acknowledge which of the multiplicity of the laws do apply to the case and bear on the issues at hand. In law school, this talent in 'seeing' the issues and applying the laws which apply to those issues is called "thinking like a lawyer." The bottom line concept involves being creative in acknowledging the issues and the laws and being inductive in separating what does or doesn't apply in the case.

The practice of law is one of the more practical of pursuits. Ultimately, the end result is the most important part of the vocation. Unlike in football, it is not how one plays the game but who wins which is paramount. So much goes into the mix of representing a client in a law case. So much of this endeavor is outside the control of the lawyer. However, quite often, the result of the case, the ruling, or verdict is what everybody sees in the end. Since there are so many factors which can affect the end result, the lawyer is required to confidently posit the law and facts and somehow blame the other side when things don't go the way of his client. In this way, the practice of the law is more of an art than a science. The beauty of the art is that one might still win even if the law and the facts are not necessarily on one's side.

2. Adversarial Struggle. The second factor which gives us pause in the practice of the law involves the fact that most law suits involve a struggle between two or more contending sides, both of which are represented by lawyers who are attempting to posit a case to a judge or jury. In this regard, the practice of law is more of a game or sport. In some respects, the practice might even take on some of the pageantry of the knights in the listes. Of course, some might argue that the practice of law is less like the battles of those romantic knights of old, and more like a shouting match in which the team with the loudest shouters is the victor. In many cases, the trial of a law case becomes a trial by ordeal as the sides battle each other, expending time and money in order to win the case.

However, there are not many other adult pursuits which involve a situation in which in order to earn a living one must attempt to establish one's trade while the competitors attempt to undo what you do. I suppose it is arguable that all trades are like this, but few are so direct. Perhaps the vocation of a military man or an athlete are a few trades which are more directly adversarial than a lawyer.

Of course, I have heard it said that on the frontier, the first lawyer starved until the second lawyer arrived in town. There is a certain amount of truth in this, and a local bar which is supportive and mentoring of its members is a wonderful example of one of those odd instances in lawyering which tends to drive most non-lawyers crazy. What could be more frustrating for a client to be embroiled in a law suit with another citizen, battling tooth and nail, only to find his or her lawyer outside the courthouse, socializing heartily with the lawyer who represents the other side. To the good lawyer, there is nothing more heartwarming than the relationship with his or her brothers and sisters in the bar. To the client this is imperceivable.

Once we cross the bar and enter the arena of the courtroom, however, we are called on to battle like true combatants, and take advantage of every fact, law and slip of the tongue on the part of the other side, its advocates and witnesses. There is always a struggle to represent one's clients with vigor and enthusiasm, even despite the fact that the other lawyer is your brother or sister. It creates quite a emotional problem for the lawyer and just a little more stress when preparing for court.

3. Representing one's clients. The third problem presented by acting as an advocate for another involves the fact that we do, indeed, act for others, who will suffer at our failure or profit by our success. I heard a story one time about a lawyer in North Georgia who had ably represented his client in a drug case in the local Superior Court, only to listen as the jury found him guilty in the case. After the jury came back into the courtroom to find his client guilty, the lawyer listened as the judge sentenced his client to several years in the penal system of Georgia. It being several minutes before the noon hour, the Judge excused the jury and the others congregated in the courtroom for an hour for the noontime meal.

As the courtroom emptied, the client turned to his lawyer and said, "What do we do now?"

The lawyer patted his client on the back gently and said, "Well, I'm going to lunch; you're going to jail."

Hopefully, we are not all so callous as to have this attitude when our best efforts fail to find success for our clients. However, this points to a stressful part of a lawyer's job: our clients hang on our success or failure in and out of the courtroom. When we fail, they fail. When we succeed, they succeed. As Hamlet might have said in this regard, "this problem should give us pause, when we consider the result of our efforts as they pertain to our clients."

This is the problem with being a lawyer, particularly a lawyer with some sense of responsibility and empathy. When the client enters the office, he has a problem which he wants rectified. Quite often, the possibility of loss, punishment or judgment hangs over his head like a dark cloud. He comes to you to deliver him from these dangers. At the same time, you hopefully recognize the possibility of success or failure in the air and can gauge that for your client before you undertake his representation. A lot of times the client might even want an estimation of the odds and require you to undertake the vocation of a bookmaker.

However, the ultimate truth here lies in the fact that the problem is not yours, but your clients. No matter how involved you become in this problem, you ultimately will not share directly in the pain or sorrow of the loss. The tricky part, of course, is that you will ultimately benefit from his problem, whether you are successful or not.

When you enter the courtroom, you are his expert, his advocate and his counsel. You have a favored place in the courtroom which allows you to approach the judge as if a relative or friend among strangers. You are given the benefit of the doubt concerning what leaves your mouth and rolls off your tongue. Usually, when you speak, everyone must listen. However, again, when you leave the courtroom, it is he that pays. Hopefully, this does not offer you solace, but creates some creative anxiety which will push you when you cross the bar or when you prepare in the days before.

So these are the matters which cause anxiety for the barrister. As we know some anxiety is good, because it pushes us forward to do our best when confronted with difficulty. However, it also scars our hearts and pushes us toward our ultimate demise, the dark vale which awaits us all.

The latest news on Kate

Well, Kate called late last night and let us know that she had fixed her car (the battery connection was loose) and that she had been nominated by PSA to homecoming court. Now she is happy, feeling rather accomplished and looking forward to October 6th. Cindy and I will now be travelling to Clinton on the weekend of October 6th. I hope that she does get to walk out on the field on the 6th. It would be very good for her physical self image. Kate is a pretty girl and has a middling problem with self esteem from time to time. She is smart and pretty and funny and witty and everything a daughter could be.

No matter what, Cindy and I will be there on the 6th.

Samuel Johnson's birthday

Today is Samuel Johnson's birthday, an English 'man of letters' from the Eighteenth Century who probably would be completely unknown if not for a Scottish sycophant named James Boswell who followed him around like a panting puppy and attempted to write down everything he said. Johnson, who lived in London at a time when London was probably one of the most important cities in the world, was sarcastic and unimpressed by most things he encountered, short of the royal family, who, at the time, were German usurpers to the English throne who enjoyed the perks of royalty and failed to adequately fulfill the responsibilities thereof. I think Johnson would have committed suicide if he had access to information about how the world had evolved since he was alive. He clearly wouldn't have liked modern culture or the democratization of the world or the present state of the royalty.

On the other hand, he might just have ignored the bumbling royals and retreated into the internet to spew his bile and opinions on everything he encountered. In that case, he quite possibly might have been drowned out by the cacophony of voices one hears on the internet. Including mine.

Can you tell that I don't like Samuel Johnson? I suppose that it is the height of irony that his memory so depends on the writing ability of a brown-nosing Scotsman.

Looking forward to Louisiana

Today is the first of the week and I am waiting on several closings to occur. Meanwhile, a lot of litigation is winding up to go. When I look at the calendar, it looks rather sad, with no closings scheduled to go in the next two weeks. It would be nice to have a spurt of action to color the calender with blue and red.

Cindy and I are travelling to Louisiana for Lianne's wedding. I am looking forward to that. I love travelling down there. I hope we get some seafood and New Orleans time in while we are down there. It would be nice to relax in the quarter a bit. I would really like to go to some of the little Cajun towns down there to see the sights. Real gumbo and crawfish ettoufee. Cold Dixie and Abita Amber. A little music L'Acadian. That would be fun.

I found a restaurant in New Orleans which is located in an old house which was built by a citizen of New Orleans so Napolean Bonaparte would have a place to live if he left France for the new world. There is a bar and a little cafe and bistro. It looks pretty neat on the internet. It is called Cafe Napolean.

There are other places down in the quarter that I have always wanted to go to as well. I have only been married to Cindy for twenty four years. You would think we would have been to Antoine's and other places by now.

Oh well, we still have time.

Football, week three?

Well, I looked all over for something about the W&L-Averett score from Saturday only to find that the game will be played this Saturday night in Salem, Virginia. Oh well. I wish Lexington was a little bit closer. Man, if it was as close as Clinton, I'd be going to those games all the time. I am jonesing on football and can't seem to watch a game these days. The damn Georgia games are way too expensive, ticket-wise and Presbyterian is changing to a higher classification and has only a couple of home games. Cindy is in no mood for football and is more interested in watching home shows on HGTV or some other channel. Augghh!

Weekend Rerun

Well, Cindy and I travelled in Kate's car up to Clinton to swap cars over the weekend. We transported a good number of Kate crap up to Clinton and played hide and seek with Tex to avoid any hassles with the powers that be. There didn't seem to be any students on campus this weekend. The football team had played in Birmingham on the previous Thursday night in the pouring rain and a lot of the students apparently went home for the weekend.

Kate thought we were going to spend the night in Clinton and we had originally talked about that, but the plans didn't go through that way. After we got the stuff up to Kate's room and moved some of the things around, Kate's roommate Allison arrived and we went out to the Greek restaurant in town. The food was nice; I had a big salad, and we took the girls back home and headed on back to Griffin for the night.

The next morning, we went to church, ate lunch at J Henry's and went home, where I relaxed for a bit and watched the Falcons give up a number of opportunities to win against Jacksonville. Afterward, I blew out the leaves and such from the carport and tried to clean out the gutters around the house. I finally removed the old plywood roofing from above the patio and cleaned up the leaves which fell on the patio.

That evening, I went back to church for a supper and presentation about the mission trip to China. It was fun; I sat with the Mussers and the Berrys and Mixons and enjoyed the meal and the presentation. I finished up with gathering up a meal to go for Cindy.

Now, I am tired and wishing I didn't have to be in Court on Wednesday and Thursday. I also wish some of these closing would take place. I got used to the busy-ness of the last week in August. I am also awaiting payment on that federal district court case.

Football Weekend

We are in definite earnest here. I am thinking about Dunwoody High and Spalding High. I hope they both play and win tonight. I am wishing I could go see W&L play Averett in Salem as a benefit for Habitat for Humanity. A charity I support and really wish I could go and see Jim Guynn and his wife and cheer for the blue and white. Georgia is playing Western Carolina and should win. The front and the hurricane has come through here and everything is a couple twenty degrees cooler now. It would be a great weekend to drive up to Roanoke and watch the game and maybe drink a beer after the game. If Cindy's back and neck could handle the drive, I would definitely do it. I love the Fall.

Acadians and Rednecks

I like the way my mind travels. I am catching up on the month of September. Last night we sat and rolled pennies. I took my penny rolls (to that point) and my loose quarters and went to the United Bank branch in Ingles. By the time she (the teller. Why are they called tellers? Do they tell you how much money you have? They don't tell you how much money they will lend you, that is the job of the loan officer. That makes sense. Where does the term "teller" come from?).... Anyway, the teller counted out my rolls and my loose quarters and I had $22.00 at the end of the accounting. She gave me the dollar bills and I bought groceries for the evening.

We ate frozen pizza from Wisconsin (good cheese!) and had a salad with the tomatoes we bought up in North Georgia. When we got through, we went back to rolling pennies. I still had some money to go to Rite-Aid (formerly Eckards) to buy Cindy and me some dental floss and junior mints for Cindy. I found it somewhat ironic that I was buying Cindy dental floss and candy. What would the American Dental Association say? What would Cindy's Uncle Chuck say? What would that old dentist in Huntsville who grew up with my Dad say? Does she care? No.

Anyway, we ended up with around twenty dollars in penny rolls that I have to take to the bank to redeem for paper money. Maybe we can go to a movie tonight and eat lunch. Its an idea.

I feel a little like Kate in Prague, saving her glass bottles from the week's beer to buy fish and chips on Friday afternoon. Did she skirt along the edge of the Roman church when she was in Prague? Doesn't she remember Jan Huss and throwing the Catholic priests off the balcony into the cow manure below? Life, sometimes, is all in how you perceive it. A miracle or ironic good riddance.

I do wish I had bought two of those thin crust pizzas last night. I was still hungry, although you couldn't tell it by the way I fell asleep in the green chair during Burn Notice. As Cindy remarked, it was good we were recording it. I assume that means that she fell asleep too. At least I rousted myself up out of the chair, took Tex out and then went to bed. How ambitious!

Did you know that I was voted Most Ambitious as a 7th grade graduate of Dunwoody Elementary School? Do you know why? It was because I had an affinity for New Orleans and Louisiana and wanted to be the Governer of Louisiana. How's that for irony? I even married a NOLA girl.

Unfortunately, I have only got the trappings of Louisiana and none of the power of office. Judging by the complexities and dark meanderings (read "All the Kings Men") I don't really think I wanted to be the Governor of Louisiana. Trying to get elected President of the Student Body at Dunwoody was difficult enough. At least I could see what was happening when I lost. In retrospect, winning by such a great margin the election for Student Body Vice President was probably just a consolation prize for the other two years. And we really didn't do much when I won.

I liked the Writer's Almanac for yesterday. Sherwood Anderson just leaving his place of business and moving to Chicago to be a writer. Cindy would approve. I found out this morning that the writer of Moneyball and The Blind Side grew up in New Orleans. That's neat. Sherwood Anderson advised William Faulkner to work on his writing when he met him in New Orleans. Apparently John Grisham had something to do with Sean Touhy at Ole Miss.

I still want to go to Oxford, Mississippi. I have seen Oxford, England and Oxford, Georgia. All three have colleges in them. Ole Miss is the place you go if you can't get into the state university in your home state. Pretty sad. At least you could wander under the oaks and visualize Faulkner and the other writers from Mississippi. You could even close your eyes and dream of the antebellum south and the post war south and Elvis and all the other aspects of life in the delta.

I must say I wasn't very impressed with Southwest Mississippi this past June. Of course, we really didn't get much chance to look around. We were really close to Nachez and we saw Jackson and got to drive along the Gulf in Gulfport and Biloxi. The coast was so sad on one side and so pretty on the other. If we had been wearing our "baby suits" under our clothes, we could have parked the car and gone swimming in the Gulf. It was so pretty. But you would have had to come out of the water to see the remnants of the beach communities and remember how pretty they were before the hurricanes of 2005. It was interesting that the live oaks seemed to have weathered the storms fairly well. I enjoyed the sea food, so the natives are still there. Life is chock full of fun and sadness, and their mix is so close to the surface that it is amazing that we tend to see things in black and white. It is all a gumbo of life. We want the seafood first and foremost, but we also eat the okra and the tomatoes and the rice and even the file, which is just bark of the trees, right? Its all there, and it always seems to be there.

I remember watching Doug Kershaw in concert at the Great Southeast Music Hall in Broadview Plaza on Piedmont Road in Atlanta. Man, he would saw on that fiddle and burn out the horsehair on that bow. He would be fiddling so hot on that fiddle that he would have to trade bows two or three times during the performance just to get through the concert. He would get the room rocking and we were all tranformed into a group of pseudo-Acadians. But it was fun and it makes me want to go to Thibadeaux or St. Francisville or thereabouts and eat gumbo and crawfish ettoufee and listen to the natives play their tunes of love and joy and loss and hope for the future. Aieee!!!!!

The mind runs on some

This has been a long day and I look forward to going home and rolling pennies.

A new "Burn Notice" will play at 10:00 o'clock tonight. I look forward to that.

I need to get the prescription filled on my high blood pressure pills. I need this!

All of the closings for tomorrow have been postponed until next week.

I need to contact Walker Chandler (the old Wahoo) and see if I can look at his books.

I am looking forward to this weekend and our trip to Clinton, SC. Maybe my daughter will talk to me about something other than more money in her account.

My office is a mess but I feel like I accomplished something today. I hope that that big check rolls in here tomorrow or soon.

I would like to have a nice meal tonight. I am very hungry and my head is aching from my blood pressure.

I would like to go see '3:10 to Yuma'. I am also looking forward to the new Brad Pitt movie about Jesse James. I can't help it; I like Westerns.

Is a movie about Jesse James technically a western? Missouri definitely has identity problems. And I thought Kentucky was bad.

I would like to travel through Missouri. I would like to see the Cardinals in St. Louis and eat barbecue in Kansas City and see Brewer & Shipley at that resort hotel near the Ozarks. I think I would like to have visited the Ozarks before the Branson phenomenon began. I've seen Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg and Helen.

Why is it that we continue to allow the Disneyification of America?

I think the Disney phenomena began with the spread of Western Europeans into the Americas. We all want our little gardens and paradises.

But we live in a fallen world. Disney is only a part of that fall.

The Rat! The Rat! The little, white-gloved, smiling, squeaky-voiced, dog-owning, friend of ducks and dogs and other rats, (dare I say it?) Rat-lover Rat!

I always enjoyed the more literary or historical productions of Disney. No rats, unless they had a part in the plot.

Now, Steamboat Willie is another matter. I liked his thin little legs and his dancing moves. Now Steamboat Willie is an antique.

Donald Duck was good. He apparently was in the Navy, or some navy. He always wore the uniform. Or at least the upper half. He had a temper, too.

When you start thinking about the evolution of this stuff, do you wonder why Donald never wore pants? Popeye was apparently a sailor, and he wore pants. My uncle was in the Navy (our Navy) and he always wore pants of some sort. There were times when he didn't wear a shirt. But he was a character a lot of the times.

Pants are very important in the Navy. They have their own styles that you don't see anywhere else: bell-bottoms, button-placketed, blue wool flannel in the Winter and white cotton duck in the Summer. Where is the line of demarcation? What do they wear in the Spring and Fall? The football team wears gold pants and helmets. That's in the Fall. What about the Spring?

I'd like to go swimming but it is now too cool and all of the pools are closed. I let that slip away with the summer months.

I did eat my peaches though.

My apologies for not writing

I have not been writing this in the manner in which I have been accustomed. Part of the problem is that I have been having problems with my computer at home. When you add to this the fact that we have been down to one working car and I had to drive Cindy to work and to the doctor and home at the end of the day, my ability to find time to write has been compromised. This is my defense of my small number of blogs for the month of September.

I have been fairly successful in getting things done around here recently. I feel pretty much on top of things. If I could get a weekend where we weren't driving somewhere or cleaning up the house in anticipation of visits from inlaws which weren't happening because Cindy didn't know about the surprise birthday party last Saturday.

I know it had to get done but it was rather interesting to listen to Cindy go on and on about needing to get everything ready for the impending visit when I knew that everybody was coming the weekend before.

Well, even after our discussions about insurance and the costs to be paid in the next few weeks and how we really didn't have enough money to go to Chicago this month, she still held on to some hope that we would go to Chicago next weekend.
It was only later that she admitted that it wasn't really realistic. I still think we can go, possibly in the Spring. Of course, we need to consider that Kate's graduation will be in the Spring and there will be a lot of stuff to consider when that happens, with relatives and friends coming in and the trip to SC and so on and so on.

Cindy was upset that it seemed that circumstances and unanticipated costs always seemed to cut our plans short. While we might be able to better budget for such eventualities, I still see this as just some things you encounter when you go through your life together. We will go to Chicago. Just a little bit later.

Now we are looking at going to Louisiana in October for a wedding. I am excited. I always enjoy a trip to Louisiana. I have always enjoyed Louisiana. I wish we could go more often.

I need to get the computer resolved so I can write more. I am in the mood. I just need to make the time and opportunity.

Summer continues

Will Autumn arrive? Tonight it is supposed to start raining again. I hope that means that the temperatures will start coming down and we can enjoy some cool weather for a change. Two weeks ago we received some precipitation and it cooled off and felt like the end of Summer. Then the dryness returned and the heat.

I wish I was going to Virginia this weekend. W&L is playing Averett College in Salem in a benefit for Habitat for Humanity. The game will be played at night. I wish I were going to be there.

Instead, I will probably be in Greenville, SC swapping cars out with the kid. PC is playing elsewhere and we will probably go to downtown Greenville to look around and eat supper. We will probably stay in a motel in Greenville or Simpsonville. We'll see.

I wish the things that are impinging on me right now would resolve themselves. I am awaiting checks and closings. If I can get some of these files closed and billed, I should be all right.

Cindy is probably going to need surgery on her thyroid gland. I have got to arrange insurance to cover her and this surgery. That will place a big bill on the monthly income. It would be nice if the thyroid responded to medication.

Things are going ok, even though everyone seems rather glum these days. I continue to whittle down the debt and hopefully can start adding to the investments soon. The impending end of Kate's college expenses is a nice goal. I am very proud of her.

Another celebration of Cindy's birthday

This past weekend was spent in the car, driving all around North Georgia. My sisters-in-law Tammy, Missy and their freinds, Mark and Sharon, had planned a surprise birthday party for Cindy for her 50th birthday. In order to work the surprise, I had arranged to meet Andrea and Larry, obstentiously to execute their wills. Since I was supposed to meet them later in the afternoon, I told Cindy we could drive around North Georgia until it was time to go meet with Andrea and Larry. Kate met with us in Helen, after some time trying to awaken her from her deep sleep caused by her uncanny ability to stay up late with her freinds and sleep late afterward. About 10:15 edt, we finally woke her up and she got in the shower to drive to meet us.

Cindy and I stopped at every little store, flea market and vegetable stand in order to kill time while Kate wound her way to Greenville and down, dodging the game day traffic around Clemson and other places as USC fans drove down to Athens for this weekend's game. She actually made good time and met us in a little cafe on the Chattahoochee River in Helen about thirty minutes after we got a table.

We ate lunch and then wound our way around North Georgia, until we finally got to Mark and Sharon's place about 7:00 o'clock edt. Cindy was shocked by the surprise and it was a nice party. We got to bed at a motel nearby around 12:17 in the morning.

The next morning, we got up, took showers, dressed and drove back to Mark and Sharon's house for breakfast. After helping Mark get the tables and chairs into his van for transport, Cindy and I drove Tammy to the airport for a flight to New York.

We had just dropped off Tammy at the Delta check-in, when we got a cell phone call from Kate, who had had a blowout on I-85, north of Dacula. We quickly turned around and headed back up to North Georgia. We made it to Dacula and found Kate and were fortunate to find a mechanic who was open seven days a week. We left the car to have the tire fixed and went to eat lunch in the area. After a little impromptu shopping on behalf of Kate, we got in the respective cars and headed back to Griffin (Kate to Clinton). About the time we got home to Griffin, we called Kate to find that she had been rear-ended by a lady in Greenville, who sped away as soon as the accident took place. Kate could find no serious damage, so she headed on to Clinton.

That was our weekend. Way too much driving, but a lot of fun, anyway. We are going to Greenville to see Kate this weekend and we are probably going to Dahlonega in a couple of weekends from now. Autumn is coming. It is getting cooler and people are hanging out up in the mountains. It is a lot of fun.

Thursday night, waiting for a client

Well, Thursday night is here and the weekend is at hand. Kate is coming home, probably on Saturday morning, and will meet us in North Georgia. We will have to make arrangements to meet her somewhere in the mountains. That will make it easy on her and easier on us, since we won't have to wait on her in Griffin. It should be a nice day in the mountains. I am looking forward to it.

Thursday night is a good night in the week generally, since the last day of the work week is at hand. Your mind doesn't go past the day you are in to look into the next week. You don't feel like the weekend is already over before it has begun. Anticipation is high.

Today was a good day with two "real" closings and one witness only closing where the borrowers came to me rather than me driving to Jenkinsburg. Tomorrow I have two real closings again and get ready for several others for next week.

Football season is really here. W&L will play Franklin and Marshall in Lexington on Saturday. Georgia plays South Carolina. All the high schools are in full swing. The Falcons will play on Sunday. Presbyterian plays in Clinton. Fun, fun and more fun with the the exterior of the swine in season.

I am looking forward to receiving my payment for fees for the

Fleeting September

September has rolled itself into this year and it almost feels like the month is waning already. I looked at a calendar yesterday and realized that this is a short month and we are already deep into it.

I have not been writing as per normal. That mainly has to do with the fact that the computer has been down at the house so I haven't been able to write at home. In connection therewith, my work at the office has been heavier than what has been the norm in the last few months. That is good, but eats into my time where I could sit down and think about what is on my mind and blurb it all out on the computer page.

Anyway, I am still waiting for the check from the litigation in Federal District Court. When that comes, I will breath easier for the moment.

We had several days of cool and a suggestion of Autumn this past few days. However, the dry, hot weather has returned and it is not quite as fun as it was, say, on Monday, when we could sit in the shade and let the breezes waft over us.

Well, Kate is coming home on Friday. That will be fun. I need to get her car all situated and the return of my car from Clinton. I am getting so tired of driving Cindy's car and making arrangements for dropping and picking her up. I enjoy the ride, but hate waiting for her to be ready.

Well, September needs a poem to show its coming and going. Perhaps in a couple of days.

For Cindy, in consideration of our life together

Its not about age or the turning of the years.
There have been many sweet moments
Upon which to consider, to roll around in our fingers
And many of the other type, as well,
But the ultimate point is not
The days that have found themselves into ambered photographs
Or the oft-told stories recited around the Thanksgiving table
But, instead, just the briefest of moments, when I catch your eye
Tripping down the stairs at workday's ending
And that lightening flash of recognition
When the surest of smiles frames your face
And I wait for that moment
And the brief kiss that follows.

That is the sublimity of life and love and we two.

Several days have passed

Thursday arrived and Cindy had a good time at Griffin Tech because of the birthday party. We got home late and I wasn't able to write in the blog. I went to bed rather late.

The next morning I awoke with a stomach ache. The first one in some time. I went to work after making Cindy's coffee for the morning. The morning seemed replete with nothingness and no prospects for anything else. At lunch I left and went home. Cindy made me chicken soup and I went to sleep. About two thirty, I received a call from Patti who informed me that we had a closing for that afternoon. I returned to work mainly to help Patti with answering the phone so that she could get the closing package ready. We didn't really close until around eight o'clock that evening. I got home tired and feeling poorly at around nine thirty. Cindy sent me to the grocery for some items and I ate chicken rice soup and went to bed.

The next morning, I awoke rather late (around eight thirty). I made breakfast for the two of us and coffee for Cindy. Thereafter, Cindy put me to work on cleaning the upstairs from the semi-disaster left by Kate when she went to school. I also did laundry, while Cindy rearranged Kate's room. After about nine hours of off and on again work, we finally stopped and I was able to go back to bed.

The next morning arrived and I made breakfast for the two of us and coffee for Cindy. We then got ready for church, where I served communion. After church, we went to J Henry's for Sunday Dinner. Cindy had a steak sandwich and I had a large cheeseburger. Afterward, we went home, changed clothes, and travelled to Susan and Kevin's house for more birthday celebrations. We left later than I wanted and ended up at Barnes and Nobles in Fayetteville, where we browsed until closing. I finally got to bed around twelve thirty.

This morning, I made Cindy coffee and felt like a full breakfast for the first time in several days. We gathered things together and went to Callaway Gardens with Cissie. We stopped at "Three Little Piggies" for barbecue and ate under the wooden pavilion on the overlook, where a cool breeze gave us notice of the coming of Fall and I longed for a hammock where I could stretch out after lunch. After lunch, we walked down to a little pavilion over the water in a lake and looked at the fish therein. Cindy asked me to go get the rest of the bagguette to feed the fish. We spent a good hour feeding the fish and watching the odd demeanor of the different fishes as they fought each other over the crumbs we had. There were numerous blue gill (bream), a few trout and bass and several large carp which came and went like sharks in the churning fish stew. There were also turtles who, in their protective shells, feared no one. At one point, a carp came up and took a piece of bread from the churning bluegill, creating quite a stir in the pond. From then on, the bream were quite sheepish about going for the bread unless they could be assured that no larger fish were lurking behind them. A largemouth bass made a stab at one and we had quite a lot of fun watching the wildlife struggle for the scraps of bread.

After that, we went to the vegetable garden and saw a lot of God's bounty, including peas, peppers, squash, grapes and other assorted vegetables, herbs and flowers. We sat in the chairs in the little victory garden building, letting the breeze blow past us. We finished up with a time at the Discovery Center and I walked, alone, down the wildflower trail. As I encountered quite a lot of species of wildflowers, I wished for my colored pencils, my art book, and a stool. I have everything but the stool. When I returned I told Cindy that I would like a folding stool for my birthday so I could sit and draw the flowers. She said that would be a good thing.

Today, was nice, as you can probably see. Much better than the others. I am sure that Cindy had a good time during the last few days. Tomorrow is Foreclosure Day and I will be travelling through North Georgia. Fun.