The weekend is ebbing and I’m sitting here, freshly showered and dressed in clean cotton and winding down, waiting to get sleepy. It’s a marvel that I’m not already sleepy, because I am bone-tired. But not because of physical exertion. A little while ago, I went out and picked some okra, re-tied some of the heavy-laden tomato plants, and watered all the flowers and vegetables. The humidity is hanging in the air like gray tulle, and I sweated heavily merely standing still with a garden hose.  I needed the shower, but I didn’t tax myself. No, I am weary because this has been a weekend spent thinking, spent deep within…