The year of the dandelions
Jasper, poor boy, is walking around with a silly-looking shaved leg where the veterinarian put in an IV. She made him unconscious so that she could clean his teeth. (One especially bad tooth had to be extracted.)
She also found a single flea. Jasper now must undergo a de-fleaing regimen.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I mowed again today – not that it’ll make much difference, tidinesswise. The lawn is infested with dandelions. They regrow themselves in one or two days.
And not just our lawn. The whole neighborhood; maybe, the whole city. On our block, even the neat freaks’ lawns have dandelions this year.
But not the lawn directly across the street. That neighbor – an old woman – has an immaculate lawn, tended to by her middle-aged children, who take turns coming over to work on the yard. I used to think them overly fastidious, but now that I see how they’ve overcome the plague of dandelions, I tip my hat.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I’m no baseball lover, but this documentary about Yogi Berra looks wonderful. This review begins with an illuminating story.
She also found a single flea. Jasper now must undergo a de-fleaing regimen.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I mowed again today – not that it’ll make much difference, tidinesswise. The lawn is infested with dandelions. They regrow themselves in one or two days.
And not just our lawn. The whole neighborhood; maybe, the whole city. On our block, even the neat freaks’ lawns have dandelions this year.
But not the lawn directly across the street. That neighbor – an old woman – has an immaculate lawn, tended to by her middle-aged children, who take turns coming over to work on the yard. I used to think them overly fastidious, but now that I see how they’ve overcome the plague of dandelions, I tip my hat.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I’m no baseball lover, but this documentary about Yogi Berra looks wonderful. This review begins with an illuminating story.
One night, a friend of mine who lives in Montclair, New Jersey, drove me around the exclusive neighborhood on the hill to show me all the mansions. … We came to a fork in the road, and my friend said, “No matter which fork you take, you get to Yogi Berra’s house.” He then drove me around the circular road to show me.