This past Saturday was spent completing many chores and projects, but little did I know there was also going to be a main event.
Because I’m an early bird, I was
up at sunrise getting things prepped for the day. By 7am, the truck was loaded
with items that needed to be dropped off at several locations. The first stop was
at the neighborhood bakery. This wasn’t on the official list of things to be
done, but it was a necessity for me. At the 7:15am there was only one other
person in line at the bakery…perfect! I bought more pastries than a “normal”
person would, but now I was ready to get on with the chores. The rest of the
morning chores went well thanks to the energy I gained from the morning’s
purchase. A few hours later while on my way back home, I drove by the bakery which
now had a line that was out the door! I slowed down and felt a certain amount
of satisfaction as I crammed a custard-filled bismarck in my mouth.
Arriving home, I started the final
chore for the day, which was to cut the shriveled-up flowers from the multitude
of hosta’s in our yard. We have an abundance of hosta’s because they’re easy to
care for and thrive in our tree shaded yard.
The heat and humidity of the day
was quickly building, and just as I was about done working in the last section
of hosta’s, BAM! DING, DING, DING - in this corner weighing in at 200 plus
pounds wearing paint- stained, faded green cargo shorts and donning a sweat-soaked
gray t-shirt…yours truly. And in the opposing corner weighing in at 0.5 grams
wearing a yellow and black horizontal striped unitard…Bumble Bee! The referee hadn’t
given the “begin fighting” command yet, when Bumble came out of nowhere with a vengeance!
Before “yours truly” knew what was going on, Bumble was up close and personal, buzzing
under my chin, directly in my face, and circling around my head. I tried to
float like a butterfly, but tripped over a cluster of hosta’s. As I crashed to
the ground, I wondered why I planted so many hosta’s. I quickly jumped up,
swinging withered flowers frantically in a windmill pattern. Bumble charged at
me one more time, but thankfully they don’t sting like a bee. I swung the manly
flowers around once more, but Bumble, probably intimidated by the fierce glare
from the sweat dripping from my face and crooked glasses, flew off to continue
with his pollinating duties. Looking around, I realized there were still a few
hosta’s with flourishing flowers on them. I decided to leave them for another
day when I would be better prepared for battle.
2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought the
good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith;
Sidebar…
Here is
a non-toxic weed killer that works very well. One gallon of vinegar, one cup of
salt, and one tablespoon of liquid dish soap mixed into a pump sprayer. The
left area of creeping Charlie in the picture was treated with this solution,
and the right side was not.
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