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The wind blew today.  Not real hard, just enough to make you know you worked outdoors in it all day.  Everybody mowed their lawns today.

I came home from work footsore, with aching muscles and blisters on two fingers.  And I had a little sit down and then I went out and fired up the mower and mowed my north lawn.

I hate mowing the lawn.  In fact I hate lawns. I’ve been known to get up on my soap box and expound at length about the evils of lawns and how grass was created for cows and antelope to graze, not for man to waste.  

So, you ask, why did I drag my tired body out to start a noisy exhaust belching machine that I hate?

Because Delores passed away.  Her funeral is Saturday.  Because I’m obligated.  Because I live on Main Street and have to spiff up when we have an Event.  Because the church is right behind my house and overflow parking spills up the street beside my yard.

So, we all do it.  We go all out and spiff our little town up so that old people who were raised here, moved away and only come back for funerals can think to themselves, “Gee the old hometown sure looks nice.”  And people who have never been here before can go away thinking, “My what a nice little town.”

What those people don’t realize is that every time one of the elders passes on, we’ve lost one percent of our population and the job of keeping up the old hometown gets a little harder.  If we‘re lucky, there will be a baby born this year and our population will stay stable, but it’ll be 12 years before that baby will be old enough to mow a lawn and possibly a lifetime to learn to grow flowers the way Delores did.

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