Twice this week I have nicked my hands with a metal object, my mail box lid and the newspaper stand, gouging out a chunk of skin. I check my hand every day watching the skin repair the damage, covering the holes with temporary scabs until the hidden structures are rebuilt and stick together. I wish I was so smart.

I am excited about starting a blog focused on my ordinary life in my hometown. I have difficulty in talking about my life on the telephone or by email and sometimes in person. What is my life about? What does it mean to be a human being?

At dawn I drove to the Zendo, passing the pine trees in the gulley where blue herons are nesting. 10 babies and 6 adults, except the babies are now big, squawking for food. Soon they will be forced to find there own food. The parents will sit further away from the nest forcing these gangling loud birds to jump out of the nest and fly. This is the true 100 foot pole.