Begone with you, foul weeds!

Admittedly, I was disappointed when I looked out at what was once a lovely barren yard, and saw it desecrated by hundreds upon hundreds of weeds. All my hard work over the winter break of raking and gathering dead vegetation, all of it for nothing. Cause now, its been replaced with a vast field of rag weeds, growing high, up to my waist. And with a broken lawnmower and broken weed wacker and zero willpower to work one by one, pulling each one out by the roots, it didn't look like it would be changing any time soon.

So I was standing by my window the other day, looking over my yard, and I decided that I really didn't mind it so much that weeds were growing everywhere, I just didn't want them blooming and going to seed, which they were. Cause more seeds meant ever more weeds next year, and an even bigger mess when we finally get around to re-establishing grass as the dominant vegetation.

So I went outside to get a better look at the mess which was the backyard. And before me, it was all transformed into a deep amazon jungle, with impassable vegetation rising from the ground. Vegetation so easily cut down by a machete. 

Now, not ever having been to South America, I don't own a machete. But being a trainee in the deadly arts I do own an unsharpened set of twin broad swords, which were soon recovered from their home at the back of my closet. 

Then I got to work. I raised my blade and stuck in one fluid movement. Slash! I was amazed how easily my blade sliced through the green fleshy stalks. Slash, slash! Though I had planned on only cutting the flowers off, I couldn't restrain myself from delivering three or four blows to the same patch of weeds, cutting them lower and lower. I had never known weeding to be so fun! And its kinda funny, but I'm hoping maybe I'll get just a few stalks of ragweed next year that I can let grow for more swordplay practice.

The Boy is Back in Town!

The boys (my 3 little nephews) were tearing it up at the entrance for terminals 1-14, Running around and around. They reminded me of some crazy planets orbiting an unseen sun, the way they would run right at each other then turn away from each other at the last second, giggling like crazy before turning again and repeating the cycle. We all watched them as we waited, the grandparents helping to intervene when nessessary.

And then the people could be seen coming down the long hall. The boys were gathered up into loving arms and we all huddled together to peer down the narrow walkway. Alot of people with their bags and cases of luggage came bustling by, but no sign of my brother. Then finally the pilot and the stewardesses brought up the rear. But where was Bryan? In the now empty hallway a lone figure could be seen walking slowly towards us. It was a man, and he did have a suit and tie on, and he did have dark brown hair. could that be him? Or did he give his seat up to another missionary who was on standby too? we asked ourselves. After all, there had been four of them stranded in texas. He was now almost close enough for us to see his face when the man stopped. Looking down, he then knelt to tie his shoe. We laughed, Aw come on! travis cried.

It WAS Bryan. Such a stunt was just like him. All smiles, we waited in our places so we could embrace the homebound son, brother, uncle, missionary of God. It was a joyful reunion.

Go JC Wildcats!

I have found the secret to enjoying watching sports. It is: understanding whats going on. Whenever I watch a game and I know how to play, I end up liking it. When I don't, I'm bored out of my mind. And I've found the more I know about the sport-the more I get into it. So for all you people who wish you could like sports, you now have the secret, go forth and use it well! And for all of you who have absolutely no interest whatsoever in watching sport games, may you enjoy countless superbowls doing other more worthwhile things.