His words, not mine.

In trade for fishing privileges, a friend of hubby's came to do our lawn today. The man must really love fishing 'cuz we some trashy folks, y'all, and our lawn was très shaggy. Not to mention all the crap we have strewn all over the place. He busted his tail to spiff it up. It looks great!

He brought his twins with him today. I saw them out in the yard and thought how bored they must be. I told him they were welcome to come in and watch a movie or something while he worked but he said, "No, they're demons. You have to watch them constantly. It might not be... safe."

Well, okay. Whatever. I had offered. Later I wanted a word with him and heard the lawn mower shut down so stuck my head out to holler at him. When I opened the door, right in front of me, I heard to very loud crack/bangs. I look down and one of these two little, what, three year olds? is holding my husband's camp ax (it's small, heavy, but small) and had been whacking something with it. I nearly lost it, but only on the inside, on the outside I smiled benignly and held out my hand. Without hesitation the boy surrendered the ax. I thanked him then went inside to have my heart attack. They're so little! And so barefoot! Visions of cut little baby toes flying through the air were forming in my mind's eye.

After the tremors passed I got greedy. There were two wild, crazy kids playing in my front yard and I wasn't taking pictures?

See that photo of the one boy stomping? That was just plum crazy. Here he is barefoot on concrete stamping, for all he's worth, on a limp bit of Purple Jew that had been trimmed from around the front step.

Their favorite game in the yard today? Grass Chunking. The object of the game was to scrape up as much cut grass as could be fit in their little hands and then chunk it with as much force as possible at whoever happened to be close enough--it was only me once. I'm proud to say my first instinct was to shield my camera. That grass was wet!




















And on a completely different subject, hope and prayers to all those in Gustav's path. I'm visualizing Gustav finding himself rather tired out by the time he reaches land again. May Gustav turn out to be the storm that wasn't.