SEND IN THE CLOWNS

We got on the road to home about nine in the morning.  By the mile we felt better...going home...HOME...be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.  I told Blythe I still preferred driving to flying...."You get alot of perspectives when you drive...things move slower...a real sense of past, present, and future....."See that grain silo?....that is the bank account of some farmer's work...that is his savings...it is safer in that silo than in some bank....look how small it looks in the distance....look how it grows as we get closer...see it in its fullness as we pass it...how big it really is..look at it now...shrinking like a burning candle...now, it is gone....Silence is golden...as far as voices are concerned....voices....those who have arisen in public view and whose mouths are always voicing....The wind...blowing off of soy bean fields, dairy farms, hay fields...sweet, so very sweet,  the sound of silence, the sound of blood, sweat, and tears....the hard worker bending over his desk under lamp light, trying to figure how to beat the odds..his pencil moves by gnarled hand...he comes to the bottom line that his family can make it with decent rain and good prices....he goes to bed and falls asleep...the sleep of the laboring man is sweet...Honesty, hard work, resourcefulness are winning the game.....This will never work....Send in the Clowns......