Metaphore for Life!

The weather here in Kansas could serve as a metaphor for life. All week the weather men have studied the computer models and have changed the forecast each day. At one time it was to be 32 degrees with ice falling and making it slick as hell. The next it was to be rainy and 62 degrees and then they talk about it starting wet and cold and turning warm ending with a sunny day near 5 PM. I don't think they have a clue and have shotgunned solutions so they can say they got it right.
Isn't that a lot like our lives? We can build models and project things out in the future and sometimes we are lucky enough to get close and sometimes we don't. Somewhere between "Bravado and Bullshit" some people actually write books about how good they are at guessing. In my narrow world there is only the system of work hard and save your rewards that has worked for me. Actually to be lucky enough to marry a woman that saves your rewards is the way it worked for me. Even with that stroke of luck, I find myself surrounded with more things that I need.
I have often wondered if I am lucky to have escaped the Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome of having served in Vietnam or if I am just too stupid to recognize the symptoms? Do I really like people or do I just crave an audience for my stupid jokes and stories? Why? I don't know, I just ask you to not tell me and spoil the fun.
On the lighter side, it has stopped raining for the moment and the birds are hitting the feeders like tomorrow it is really going to be tough. I feed Black Oil Sunflower seeds, Thistle seeds in a Finch feeder and a suet block. On days when it is headed for really cold, even the little birds hit the suet block. Mostly they line up and visit the sunflower seed feeder like planes on an aircraft carrier. They stack up in the trees and fly in one at a time, grab a refuel of one seed and fly out to rejoin their place in the stack. Mostly the finches gang around the six slots and drop the thistle seeds on the ground. The Woodpeckers will stop and dig out a seed from the suet block and then fly off. Quite often another woodpecker has to fly in and buzz the suet block to dislodge the current occupant.
I spent the day yesterday helping Dave move stuff from the old digs to the new house. It was four pick-up loads with a trailer and there is still a ton of stuff to move. I am not sure that after 12 hours of that if I am capable of doing even one run today. At least my typing finger is able to move today. (notice I said finger not fingers. I learned to type when I was cutting training schedules in the 1-127th FA in Ottawa, KS. We used the old stencil method and a long carriage manual typewriter. If you tried to type fast, the damn keys would clash and you would get lousy results. One finger at a time, one letter at a time and it would be a product that no one followed anyway.
I guess I had better wrap this up and while the bird crush has tapered off refill the feeders.
MUD