Occasionally, I don’t feel displaced in the evolution of societal change. Saturday we worked outside in the back yard, Weston & fam’ came over to help, we shoveled dirt for a new above-ground pool, the kids had heaps of fun playing in the dirt pile, there were wheel barrel rides, and we ate sandwiches outside on the deck... the kids ate ice cream (in ice cream cones). It felt like something my parents or my grand parents would have done. It reminded me of the early 60’s. Obviously there’s a lot about those days that weren’t so great. Much has changed for the better. But I can’t help but feeling we’ve lost small pieces of the past (life, culture) that were important. Not all traditions are bad. People used to sing on porches, get together just to eat watermelon, help each other build fences... families stuck together, neighbors invited newcomers over to eat, etc. In a world where progressive seems to overshadow every other value, guess I’m just saying - I cherish the experiences that remind me about what was good about ‘the good old days’. Closing thought: if Norman Rockwell we’re still alive, what would he paint?