Today has been blessed. Visiting with friends, we can't say old which means putting an age on them, but we can emphasize we have been friends since we started raising children. The best of times remembered. Funny how you can pick up where you left off and fill in the missing years. Last visit I mentioned a poem Bob had to memorize and I, in helping, have never forgotten The House By The Side Of The Road. Their are hermit souls that live withdrawn in the place of their self content. There are souls like stars that dwell apart, in a fellow less firmament; There are pioneer souls that blaze the path where highways never ran but let me live by the side of the road and be a friend to man. (Stanza number three was in last nights blog.)Let me live in a house by the side of the road where the race of men go by, the men who are good and the men who are bad, as good or as bad as I. I would not sit in the scorners seat nor hurl the cynics ban, let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man. Sam Walter Foss. Thanks to the carpenter who verified the plumb line in setting blocks. I hope you identify knowing someone similar to Foss people of the poem. I know we walk elbow to elbow each day  with folks who walk to different beats of the drum. Isn't life interesting?