Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I spy a heron.
I spy a heron across our creek that required me to slither out my back door, hunch down and duck walk while my hands tightly clutched my camera so I could get close enough to capture him on film yet not scare him away.
I spy a heron who did not want to be photographed, and as soon as he spotted a most ridiculous human--doing the duck walk while cussing and mumbling, all the while trying to focus the camera--he took off, squawking his discontent all over the neighborhood.
I spy tall, tall grass in the foreground of this picture, never mind the heron.
I spy grass that belongs to an overgrown shoreline due to a certain duck-walking human's inability--or unwillingness--to push mow it all of last year.
I spy a situation that needs to be addressed quickly, before the jungle-like weeds, grasses and vegetation of spring and summer make this an impossible task; most certainly before July's Blog Fest.
I spy myself tying a string around my finger as a reminder to take the push mower and the riding mower to Chimney Corner Lawn Mower Service for much needed maintenance, since last summer I ground up stumps, walnuts, patio furniture, tennis balls and battle axes as part of my ruthless assault on the lawn that grows only slightly faster than the baby pine trees sprouting from my gutters.
I spy a hefty maintenance bill due to the need for new blades, belts and a few vital engine parts that may have dropped off during last season's assault.
I spy a hissy fit occuring somewhere between receipt of said maintenance bill and the actual mowing of the grass around the shoreline.
I spy a headache.