Because Sometimes You Have To Get A Little Dirty

So some of you, or possibly only one of you, may have been wondering about the status of the big pile of dirt since last I recounted dirt filled tales. I am happy to report that the big pile of dirt is approximately half its original size though unchanged since my last dirty report.

Because I haven’t been shoveling dirt lately. Because when people say it’s a jungle out there they might be talking about parts of my yard. Because the area that the remainder of the dirt is destined for is still in its uncleared, vine choked state. Because I was slow in getting bids to clear the vines. Because I am reluctant to do the vine clearing myself. Because some of the vines are poison ivy or have nasty thorns, not to mention the possibility of encountering snakes of the venomous kind of which three kinds have been sighted in or near my yard. Because I hate doing that sort of thing with that sort of thing being both dangerous vine clearing and getting bids to clear dangerous vines.

I took a chance in the previous paragraph and used a literary device known as beginning every sentence with ‘because’ because I figured you might have questions and I would read your collective minds though I know I say just above the comment box that I don’t read minds but sometimes I think maybe I can, so I did, and then I answered them but without writing out the questions because you were already thinking them and that would be redundant, so you’re welcome for the lack of redundancy. Now the bids have been gathered and the tree people (though not the Treebeard tree people) will be here Wednesday to do all the clearing of vines and trees that pose a danger to the house and then dirt shoveling will resume.

In other news, I spent the previous 24 hours with my best friend for what may be the last time as he is moving 1320 miles away on Thursday and we won’t see each other again before then. I’m bummed but not sad. I think the sadness might hit later. But we did have a good time yesterday afternoon and last night and this morning. We ended our time together with a motorcycle ride. Top speed for a very short stretch  – 105 mph – woohoo!

I wanted to have a picture of him on his bike, but he wanted to take a picture of me on his bike, so this is me on his bike.

I wanted to have a picture of him on his bike, but he wanted to take a picture of me on his bike, so this is me on his bike. I know it almost looks like I’m riding it, but I’m not. He wanted me to stand the bike up and balance on it but I couldn’t because it weighs a ton or felt like it did and I’m a very little person, but not a dwarf.

Cheese Distraught That Food Court Sentences Butter To Jail

I don’t know if you’ve been spending much time around conservatives lately, but they’re a glum lot. It’s as if they just found out their favorite hunting dog was run over by a Prius driving transgender vegan. I’m not quite sure how to console them, the conservatives, not the Prius driving transgender vegan though I’m sure he or she would be distraught about running over a dog.  So when my conservative friends read on >>

Tropical Red Blotches And Redundant Weather

I should probably pay more attention to the weather forecasts, but since weather can be a bit unpredictable, the attention I pay to it is also unpredictable. Take today for example. I remember hearing vague reports of rain for today with some forecasts calling for a 70% chance of rain. That report was a couple of days ago but I was occupied with other thoughts and activities most of Friday and Saturday and failed to watch any weather news or news of any kind.

So knowing it might be a rainy day, I was not surprised when read on >>

Trifecta Challenge – Memories

The weekend Trifecta challenge is to write a response that is between 33 and 333 words long and uses the words listed below.  Use the words however you wish, but make sure that all three appear in your response.  Oh, and they must appear in order.

Good luck!

  1. cacophony
  2. soap
  3. insects


A cacophony of cicadas carried on a breeze while fireflies danced beyond the window. Thoughts drifted back to long ago summers, now just remnants of faded memories. He wanted to wrap those memories around him like a blanket but each time he reached for one it slipped through his fingers like a wet bar of soap. Then he noticed the spider hanging by a silken thread. Were spiders insects? He couldn’t remember.

The Horror Of It All

One of the nice things about following other blogs is that they magically appear in my inbox and provide me with inspiration. By inspiration, I mean I can take someone else’s idea or research and make up my own little post. What a time saver!

Of course, I always give credit where credit is due because I’m a nice person, if a little bit lazy. This time I am stealing inspiration from read on >>