Here is Sydney’s new buddy from Rural King.

Then when we checked out with our tarp and stakes and dog treats, gummy worms and gummy bears and those yucky circus peanuts Der Bingle likes -as well as some wintergreen mints to send to Quentin along with a cute little brown resin bear that carries big bears hugs. The wintergreen mints are pink and Quentin got his love of them from my grandma whose first name was Jessie and who was born in 1881. I loved her dearly. A generational link that skipped two generations – my mother’s and mine – and ties together two who are so dear to my heart.

Oh, yeah, I also got gummy bears, but I’m not supposed to tell that to Der Bingle’s bear colony friends. But, anyway, here we were, checking out and the cashier says if we buy a Rural King burlap bag for $1.49, we will get 10% off our purchase. I say yes and then mention about buying a lawn tractor or something like that and getting 10% off. The cashier tells me, “It has to fit in the bag, Ma’am.”

Well, you know I watched “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” last night and a couple of days ago I was writing about Hub’s speech in “Secondhand Lions”. And, so now the lost cause mantra is in my mind – especially the part about lost causes being the only causes worth fighting for. I was puttering around upstairs, thinking that I needed a lost cause and this thought popped into my head: Look into the mirror, AmeliaJake.

Well, that’s self-pity. I’m not a lost cause; I can’t be; I love and care about enough people to not be a lost cause – to not let them down. And so, by gosh, I’m fighting for this non-lost cause. I may not be successful, but I am certainly going to try. Because, you know, I should try.