The journal is going to get short shrift today.
Having written that, my train of thought jumped the tracks. Short shrift is a common term, but it got me to wondering if there is also a long shrift, and what is a shrift, anyway? Turns out that shrift in old, Old English is the act of confession and receipt of absolution. Somehow the phrase "short shrift" has come to mean make short work, or give little consideration. I try always to give full attention to the journal, but today's entry will be short. I hope I will be shriven.
Back to the subject (or lack thereof) at hand. My friend Tom is gifting me with a day's labor from his nephew Kyle and there are things that I need to do before his arrival this morning. Tom was a Marine (no such thing as an ex-Marine) and I do not doubt he drafted Kyle into this, but the young man and I have worked together in the past and he's a good helper. He won't hold his uncle's offer against me, even though he's on summer break from school and at his age (heck, at my age!) doing nothing holds more appeal than sweating it out with a weed-eater or a hammer.
At any rate, yesterday was a run-of-the-mill day, with nothing much of note. The goats came to the milking room in orderly fashion (of course they did, I had no pressing engagement). The weather was moderate. Everything that needed water got watered. I had a whole eggplant to myself for dinner.
It was a good day.