The general mood of this Sourdough hasn't really changed much, although the quality of life hasn't decreased, and so, for that, I am thankful. The Easter celebrations were relatively benign. We went up to our friend Claire's, a remarkable young lady who owns a local salon. She's got a big yard at her place, and a bunch of the kids, inluding Malcolm, got to run around her yard and find all of ther plastic eggs. Malcolm did well for a few minutes, before he pulled a Speed Racer and started trying to figure out new and exciting ways to ride lawnmowers, calling them "cars" as they have wheels. I'm relatively certain that I'll have to invest in that kids future by making sure he has a go cart, a 4-wheeler, and a tool kit. He's two years old, and he knows more about what he wants from life than I do. He's got it all figured out. When he woke up the other morning, before he even opened his eyes, he said "Seatbelt? Seatbelt? Key? Key?..... Drive!" When we were in Colorado, and had the opportunity to go to the park every day, all he wanted to do was chase cars down the street. What I wouldn't give for that sort of focus and, for lack of a better term, drive.
Simplicity. I'm envious.