My GRP yesterday was three. That is, Gross Rock Product. I've been clearing hiking trails on the Farm, and specifically clearing around gorgeous boulders on Tinmouth Mountain. Today I eked out 3 hours of hard labor—and revealed, sort of "Zen-like," three spectacular boulders, the largest of which was 6 X 12 X 8 feet. Hence a Gross Rock Product of three.
As I headed for a long hot shower that I hoped would reduce my back pain to mere agony, I thought about home writ large, Tinmouth Mountain, Vermont, and the United States of America—and our 231st July Fourth. I/we are lucky—300 million lucky dudes—rancor shadowing Iraq notwithstanding. The Freedoms I "automatically" express and enjoy on my Farm and in my professional life are truly amazing, especially if your reference point is a scant 250 years ago—as I mentioned in a recent Post, I'm reading about the history of the idea of freedom per se. For me, born in 1942, I am also reminded on 4 July of the state of terror that existed in the world when I arrived—i.e., Holocaust and human butchery in general were in full swing.
Hence, putting the likes of Middle Eastern madness and views about this year's decisions by the Supremes aside for 24 hours, we have much to be thankful for, much to be worthy of a hot dog with catsup lathered with reckless disregard of its effect on post-July Fourth girth.
Back to the rocks ...