Stove Back At Work

("I Surrender, Dear," Bing Crosby's first solo hit, 1931)

Stove had been enjoying a short vacation when the days were sunny, but giving only the illusion of warmth.  What with the return of rain yesterday and getting drenched going down to the barn, I gave up and put him back on duty after feeding him well.  Stove seemed happy to be called upon and fired right up.  Better still, he didn't gobble his log lunch, but savored it slowly.  Just as well because the porch rack has been depleted by the many damp days.  The cats abandoned my lap in favor of Stove's luxurious warmth, stretching out by the hearth, turning over once in awhile to toast the other side.

NASCAR has always had an affinity for the military, and all stops were pulled out yesterday at the 600-mile race at Charlotte.  Each of the 40 cars carried the name of a warrior who did not come home, and during the race a brief history of each was presented.  I was reminded of FDR's quote, "War is young men dying and old men talking."  Members of the present military were well represented in numbers.

Memorial Day is always a sad day.  I hope the sun comes out so I can fly the flag.  Thinking about it yesterday, I realized that many of my relatives, by blood or marriage, had served our country in branches of the military and that all...all...had come safely home.  It wasn't just Stove that warmed me yesterday.