Burton and I do not fight much and I still remember one of the big ones. I had made the mistake of asking ‘What’s the point’? Burton was working two hours away and had been gone for a couple of weeks. He had the afternoon off and drove home to see me knowing he would only be able to stay for about an hour. Actually in recalling the fight it was about twenty minutes he would get to have at home. My reaction was not received well. His response was a powerful defense on the value of any time spent together and he did not take kindly to me not understanding that. The message has stuck and I woke up on this beautiful morning with those words echoing in my head. What’s the point? I am tackling the task of planting a garden , dropping tiny seeds in the ground and hoping that despite all the things that can go wrong (chickens, crows, cows, frost, drought,insects, rabbits, weeds to mention a few) a plant will grow and be harvested. What’s the point of so much we do?; of sweeping a floor when it will need to be done again tomorrow, of cooking when it gets eaten, of loving an old dog, of writing a book, of mowing a lawn, of doing laundry , of visiting a mother who can’t talk to me,of bringing the girls home when they will leave again , of getting my hair cut , of believing what we do matters.Of course there is a point.Twenty minutes does matter. It all matters and is the gift we have been given, the time we are blessed with and the treasure we must not squander.