An English In Kentucky


















April 7th 2010    Tim Candler

    Beginning to think I should assess the relationship I have with arrogance.  Yesterday I reckoned on the passing of frost for this end of the year.  Completely convinced of it, I was.  Today I fell for a peep at the weather forecast and early Saturday morning looks deeply grim.

     Why do I fall so quickly into certainty.   Take joy in the dour expressions of others.  Trample on established wisdoms as though my own bones came from this ground.  These things belong perhaps to the predicament of being tribal which can produce an arrogance that I have always been repelled by and often find myself belonging to.    

    Yet, now that I am again humbled, there is a sense of relief for me in the weather forecast.  I can look at the garden and not see Cactus where Chard struggles.   And I can still believe in the Wax Gourd because October is still half a year away.   But it remains arrogance that permits this indulgence, especially after wiser minds suggest Kentucky's own Dipper Gourds would more likely accomplish this image I have of hanging fruit.

     Best to document the chaos of it otherwise it'll be another pretend like the first Apple. 

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