I have no excuses. I have nothing to say, except...I'm sorry. No way should I have forsaken you, my bloggy friend, for so long. It's pathetic, when I have the time to do it, and I don't actually follow through. I will understand if any of you want to quit being a follower, but that does not mean I will not stalk you (picture me laughing here). Ok, so stalk is a strong word. Unless you are jannypie, then I have to stalk...she makes me laugh.
I've been spending a lot of "quality time" with my yard this summer. Which can loosely be translated as: I've been sweating and dirty for most of the summer. My grass is finally getting more ground coverage, though. And I have a whole new hatred for weeds.
I'm one of those wack-o's you see sitting on the ground pulling weeds by hand, in a never-ending battle. I have this voice in the back of my head that screams every time the hubby suggests spreading weed killer. I think I've seen too many medical dramas where weed killer caused an extra toe to grow on a child, or some poor woman grew a penis from over exposure to weed killer.
My imagination is finally being tamped down, after growing 5 blisters on my left hand from all the weeds. I agreed to let the hubby buy some organic weed killer. Is that an oxi-moron? Organic suggests that it is natural. And weeds are natural, albeit not as pretty as St Augustine grass. Who knows, maybe I'll grow a penis and won't need my hubby any more!