The Love of a Good Woman

"It's the little things. There is nothing bigger."

Could be a spiritual mantra or part of a dissertation by a physics student. The Prophet once said, "Eh, either way." Quanta/God lay in the sink looking up at me and I rinsed him off, dried him and put him away. Ha ha. If God doesn't have a sense of humor I'm screwed.

I have had a running battle with the hornets these past few days. They are ferociously zealous in guarding that little hole in the side of the barn. Nothing tastes like the anticipation of being stung, and if they could, they'd tell you the same about the heartless giant trying swat them with a paint brush. Marauders abound. Jainist monks sweep the ground with straw brooms as they walk along so as not to accidentally kill any bugs that happen to be strolling by but India is a crowded place, so it's bound to happen, now and again. Many cultures revere the animals they capture and kill for food. This one is difficult for me. While I'm spending half my day trying to find a way to not paint spiders into the barn, I know someone who would pay me $5 for each if I did.

It's the little things, eh?