Lost day, found target.

When you work for ten or twelve years, I think you get used to the regularly maintained Torture Schedule of working five days on, Monday to Friday, and two days off, the hallowed Saturday and Sunday. (This happens once you've become mundane, so try not to do that, kids.) So when I get a Long Weekend Holiday, a Friday Holiday versus a Monday Holiday, I get disoriented. Today, I've been lost in a tesseract, a wrinkle in time. Some of it was Brownie Time: A time which, as long as I don't know what to do with myself, I might as well eat a brownie. And I might as well figure out how to take care of a lawn.

I stand out in the street looking at my new lawn. A little yellowed here and there from the run-by dog poopings. A bit moth-eaten around the street light. And I don't care how much I water two of those bushes out there, they are pushing up the daisies. The oak stick trying to pass for a tree is feeling the pain, too. I stop to count the days til fall... "Maybe it thinks it's fall..." I'm hoping. Deciduous versus dead. Ashes to ashes, funk to funky. So I look to the internet for suggestions, and I come across some lawn tool that you step on, repeatedly, all around your yard to aerate it. It was about 35$. So I figure over-sized golf shoes will do nicely instead, if I can find some at, ironically enough, a yard sale for 1/35th of the price.

Besides, it'll go better with my Swatting Dog Poop Out of My Yard Golf Game I devised yesterday. And then I can spend my money on something else more valuable to me now:



Target practice. Gnome Sweet Gnome.