This is one of those TOL posts, from a homespun philosopher musing about her precious little life. Thinking about when our rivers meet the grand bulldozer. If it sounds like I'm in a bar nursing a glass of wine, you'd be close.
Life Diverted . That's when it gets interesting. It keeps me reading blogs by women who have met a bulldozer or two. I rifle through their posts searching for some common denominator, some secret victory I can poach. I mean, poaching's legal in blogland, right? Maybe the ones I admire are those who wrestle with the bulldozer until they're big and strong, and then divert the river to their own ends. Maybe the ones I admire revel in the unfinished nature of rivers relocated by man and nature. They pop a worm on their fishing pole and cook up a feast. Maybe the ones I admire put markers where the river used to be, and engineer new access for those who lost riverfront property.
I don't know. The common denominator seems to be pluck. What do you think?
I hope ALL plucky women
splendid day today