I had a bowl of oatmeal at Panera for breakfast this morning, a consequence of showing up at the Clopton Clinic lab for a fasting blood sugar test and other blood work.
Morgan has gone to Indiana to visit her late grandfather's lady friend who is in hospice care. I think it's admirable that Morgan was willing to drive all the way from Arkansas to say goodbye to a woman who has, thus far, been ignored by her grandfather's family. It speaks volumes about her character.
In the meantime, I'm hunkered down for an all-day rain event that will likely result in flooding in low-lying areas. We live on high ground, so it's just another rainy day for us. In between the noises of thunder and deluge, I can hear the sweet spring song of cardinals. The northern cardinal is the official state bird of six states including my native Indiana. No other bird has been adopted by so many state legislatures. Interestingly, Missouri - home to the St. Louis Cardinals - has the Eastern bluebird for a state bird.
My earliest recollection of cardinal song in spring was the spring of 1953 when I heard a cardinal singing outside my second grade classroom. That was in the days when school buildings had windows that could be opened to let in fresh air and spring breezes. I loved the song then and I love it still and am glad there are cardinals in Arkansas.
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