The Letter

My grandson handed me a stack of mail with the words, "The important one is for you, Mimi." I wondered what he meant, as I glanced at the envelope on top without my glasses and dismissed it as a piece of junk mail. I did a double take when I donned  my readers.  A summons! Jury Duty!  My heart fell as I thought about going to the county seat when I should be home taking care of my husband!

"Oh, no!' I exclaimed. Why had they chosen me? I knew they get the names from voter roles, though.  I remember when I was called for jury duty in Mississippi, and I woke up on the appointed date not feeling well.  No problem, they just scheduled another date! It was not fun for me to drive the 20 or so miles to the courthouse for two days, and I was much younger then!

On the second day they had qualified the jury by asking questions about things that might influence your decision on the case (a car wreck suit).  When they asked if you or your family had ever been in a certain hospital, I was able to say yes, because that's where our youngest child was born.  The right answer! I got to go home!

My thoughts were a jumble as I looked at the letter today. Then I vaguely remembered reading somewhere that if one is over 70 years old, they don't have to do jury duty.  I scanned the fine print on the summons and found the caveat that would excuse me.  I called the number listed and explained, "I am 77 years old!" I was cordially told my name would be removed!

It's not that I am un-patriotic or anything, and I do believe in an impartial court system. But it's such a relief to be relieved! We spent the last couple of evenings of long daylight hours relaxing at our son's house in the country, having slices of cold watermelon on his grassy lawn under cool shade, watching the antics of the farm animals. I was looking forward to going there this evening, and now I can with no cloud hanging over my head!

Watching the little creatures is an exercise in tranquility as they go about their contented, untroubled existence.  The chickens pecking busily, singing as they scratch and forage for a bug, worm, or bit of gravel. The three goats, mama, daddy and baby, pulling at the low-leafed bushes or rearing to pull leaves from a tree branch.  The two pigs lolling in their mud bath. The gangly baby turkeys with their
bird-dinosaur-like heads visible above the foliage.

The farm kittens have largely lost their shyness as they scamper around.  I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a squirrel silhouetted on a tree trunk against the brightness of the low sun. Then it darted out of sight, only to emerge as a kitten high up in the tree!  "How did it get up there?" our son marveled. And how would it get down? But it's claws lowered it to a safe distance from the ground when it nimbly twisted and made a perfect landing.

A short time later, we saw the kitten leaping and twisting in the grass and realized it was batting and tossing a tiny mouse!  Greg was ecstatic! "It's what I wanted them to do!" he exclaimed, "Keeping away the mice!"  He  had found holes in his feed sacks. The kitten was positively intoxicated with its catch, long dead by this time.

Nature has its own code of survival, the creatures behaving as God made them to be.  We humans have our code of ethics and laws, and thankfully we have a  justice system to enforce them. But the words, Jury Duty, are not my favorite greeting!