For each of us, there are a few, sometimes only a single thing, that we truly love. For the present discussion we shall exclude our favorite person. The true love in our lives, real or imaginary. There’s no way to handle that in around 500 words. I am certain that you love your significant Other more than words can tell, anyway.

I’m talking about the little everyday things, without which life would border on the unbearable. I’ll get this one out of the way first. You have heard it before: I love my morning cup (or several) of darkroast coffee. I know that is supposed to be dark roast – two words – but I love it so that I have commissioned a new word – a single word – for the dark and flavor filled brew. I have told my spelling checker get over it and let it go. I love my morning darkroast coffee.

My own significant Other, CA, loves most things. Says so often. While walking about the yard admiring her daylily collection she can be heard to say, “I love that lily”, at every turn. I got to thinking – is there a lily you don’t love? And there was one, believe it or not. It was purchased over 10 years ago as I recall as a white lily – a rarity indeed. It’s actually a pale yellow. A lovely flower but not as advertised. Likable but not lovable.

As we drive around she will point out a house and remind me for the mega dozenth time that she loves that house. And so on. I am given to believe that she loves most things. I know there are some things she does not love but, why, she suggests, would one focus on those things when there are so many lovable things in life? There’s a lesson lurking there somewhere, and I am the one who should learn it.

You get the picture. I’m not going to list every lovable thing, which you should count as a blessing to be loved! I’ll leave you to your own list, which you can, if you like, leave here in the comment box.

I will, however, share this that happened only this morning. Some friends down the road gave us a tamarack sapling which we have wanted. It came from the middle of a flower bed and has been planted out back in a favored spot to hopefully thrive and share its unique beauty. We love the tamarack.

We have two black hawthorns standing about 15 feet, one of which has been overtaken by a Japanese willow and needed to be moved, while the other one stands handsomely in the sunshine. We suggested our friends take it and that brought on a wave of delight. She had always wanted a hawthorn – a tree she loves.

Her brother came down from Westport with a trailer and we dug that black hawthorn up and through the combined efforts of four of us we managed to get that root ball onto the trailer and secured. None of this would have happened without her brother’s supply of that plastic rope lobstermen use to secure their buoys and which, when it comes loose, washes up on his place on the ocean.

He had used several pieces of this rope and needed one more to complete the task and turned back to his SUV for more and in passing he shook his head and said, “God, I love rope”. I did not doubt if for a minute.

A few years ago, I began keeping a list of books I’ve read so I would not forget that I had read them. I have been known to pick up a volume at the library that, after a chapter or two, I realized I had read before.

I think it is an inherited disease. I still have trouble keeping the list! A list for anything is no better than the will to keep it current.

Along comes mobile devices that can hold dozens of apps! Little programs that do wondrous things for you for almost nothing. Problem is YOU must use it – work it – make it work. These apps and devices are tools. That’s all they are.

It reminded me of when I was training for my private pilot’s license. John, my instructor and I were practicing landings by doing touch and goes at the airport. We would circle the pattern and land and take off immediately and do it again and again for an hour or so. On this particular day, I seemed intent on driving the wheel struts up through the wings with rough landings until, finally John yelled for me to drive the airplane and stop thinking it was going to land itself. I was never so frustrated. Well, there was a time or two in my second marriage. . . .

That’s the thing – there are hundreds of helpful apps out there but for them to be helpful you must “work” them. I was doing great until one day I decided I’d post a book I had read or listened to later. Then it was tomorrow, and then the next day. The result was that I ordered an audio book that I had already purchased. Thankfully I was able to return it, but you see my point.

I have this wonderful digital calendar with all the birthdays and anniversaries of all my friends and relatives noted. I said to myself – now I can remember all these important dates. Guess what? I don’t. Why? I don’t look at the calendar or even pay attention when this buzzer goes off telling me in big bold letters that tomorrow is the birthday of someone I love and cherish.

I always wanted to be thought of as thoughtful. ( Interesting sentence, that) I do think of others, all the time, but often not on the important dates in THIER lives. I’m working on it. It just never was a big thing my family.

I now have this new program that consists of a computer app along with a microscopic chip that you swallow. It’s embedded in a cracker – and it somehow settles in your brain. Amazing technology. The cracker comes in original, garden medley, sun-dried tomato and Cajun. On your computer, you tell it what birthdays and anniversaries you want to remember and the chip in your brain produces an overwhelming and irresistible urge to go to a greeting card store. I have written the company to suggest a warning about the consumption of alcohol which seems to short circuit the brain chip. No surprise there. They’ve promised a firmware upgrade soon.

Overwhelming and irresistible urge – hmm, I hope I remember what that feels like.

We went for a drive today – a Sunday drive, of all things. Drove down to southwestern Maine to a pottery place we had been to a couple of times and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Sunday driving. I mean the traffic was horrendous in paces! But we enjoyed the trip. We don’t do that much anymore.

When I was a boy it was a regular Sunday after dinner thing. Getting in a car and going somewhere was a huge thing at the time. OK, it’s still rather nice. Only then, it involved a big bowl of ice cream and my grandfather’s King Edward cigar perfuming the air. It’s a miracle that I survived those years. We didn’t do the ice cream. Did do the usual cocktail and Singapore Noodles – takie outie – extra spicy. It was fantastic, but no cigar.

The day was humid. The sky was nicely blue with some random clouding but nothing threatening. The key word is humid. The A/C in the car worked matchlessly. I am tempted to go down now and get in it and just let the A/C run all over me. Hmm, sounds delicious. Sensual.

I decided on a completely unnecessary inspection of the garden just as the light began to fail and sure enough, it was unnecessary. But cool. I finished off the light of the day on our little back porch and listened to the buzzing of the last calling hummingbirds coming to the bar just before closing. It is just above my head. Buzz, buzz. It has to be hard on them. It’s hard on me.

I think I’ll survive the night with the services of my window fan. In a minute, I’ll see where William Least Heat-Moon will take me tonight in his newly published, HERE, THERE, ELSEWHERE. If you haven’t read his BLUE HIGHWAYS, do so tonight!

Funny – it seems to be cooling off a bit. The night always did have certain redeeming qualities.

I’m Jerry Henderson – – Be well, and stat tuned.