My dogs have been looking at me a little funny today due to the strange groaning noises coming out of my mouth every time I sit down. My thighs (or quadriceps for those of you who want to get technical) seem to be the hardest hit muscle group. Running a distant second would be my chest, from the hundreds of push-ups that I did (only kidding, since I told you yesterday that I could only do 1 or 2). I jogged again today... probably around 2-3 miles interspersed with walking. I think that my walking might actually be faster than my jogging. I started out with my Golden Retriever, Bodhi. I thought that he might enjoy spending a little extra time with me, but after his second bowel movement (too much information?), I decided that he was slowing me down. Really the only thing that was much slower than me was stopped.
Why is it that people want to rain on your parade? Why is it that we're generally not supportive of each other? Why do we have to point out all the things that could go wrong instead of all the things that could go right? I've noticed this lately and that's why I don't even mention half of the ideas I have to other people. I find myself having to defend my position. What if we went out of our way to support each other? What if when someone shared an idea with us we said, "Wow, that's a great idea... what can I do to help?" Wouldn't that be unique? Let's all give it a try.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Zero to half marathon in 30 days!
I've had some crazy ideas in the past year, especially when it comes to finding a job. My latest was applying for and getting a job as an Identity Theft Specialist, which turned out to really be a 100% commission based sales job for Prepaid Legal. I have nothing against Prepaid Legal... I actually think they offer some great packages for the average person to have access to legal advice and identity theft protection. But.... and this is a big BUT... what makes me think that I would be good at sales? It's something that I've avoided like the plague my entire life. You want to know why? I hate rejection! Hmmm... let's think about this. Even the sales training admits that you have to approach 24 companies to get 8 meetings to get 2 sales presentations. In my calculations, that's 22 rejections! Ouch! I could do it if I wanted to torture myself. In the 2 days that I applied myself toward it, I got so upset and angry that I almost gave myself a stroke. I rated myself at 9.5 on my 10 point scale of feeling like killing someone. I had to admit that this was not a good sign. There's got to be a better way to make a living.
Where does a half marathon fit into this? It's a little convoluted, so see if you can stay with me. Or maybe it's not convoluted at all. Yesterday I put on a pair of Adidas running pants that I haven't worn in a while. Instantly, they transformed me. I immediately felt comfortable; like coming home. Many people say this about finding the right church. When they walk in the door, they immediately feel like they're at home; like they're at peace with themselves and with the world. That's the way I felt when I put on these pants. They are me. They remind me that I'm an athlete. Maybe not an Olympic swimmer or a competitive athlete, but an athlete just the same. It's in my DNA. It's who I am. It's what I know. It's a God-given talent that's been put on a shelf to gather dust. All it needs is a little shaking off and a little practice to get all the pieces moving smoothly again. And then I'll be at the top of my game again... finally.
I have to have a goal. I've run 5Ks before and even 10Ks. I even ran a 10 mile race in Washington, DC. I never thought I'd want to run any farther than that, but where's the challenge in doing something I've already done before? So when my friend, Paula, mentioned that she's training for a half-marathon in February, that sounded like a good idea. The race is on February 19th, exactly 30 days from today. I haven't been running for at least the last 10 years. No running, whatsoever. Well, I did jog/walk around the track at the high school one day last year. But for all intents and purposes, I'd say I'm at ground zero. Most people look at me and think I'm in good shape. I'm not. We, as a society, equate being thin with being in shape. It's not. I can't do more than one or two push-ups. This is from the woman who did more push-ups than any other trainee in basic training. I could easily knock out 50 perfect push-ups. Now I'm lucky to do one. I may be thin, but I'm not in good shape. That's all going to change.
My goal in the next 30 days is threefold:
1) run the Livestrong half marathon on February 19th
2) be able to do 30 push-ups and 50 sit-ups
3) get my certification as a Certified Personal Trainer
I also intend to blog daily about my journey toward this goal. I already started jogging this morning. Yes, I had to walk alot, but I also jogged. I'm sure I'll be feeling it tomorrow. I'm practicing push-ups and dips and crunches and I'd even like to do some chin-ups if I can find a bar. I'm stretching my muscles to keep from cramping. And I'm going to start drinking my protein drinks again. I thought about going on a strict diet but I decided against it. I'll do the best I can but I'm not giving up my chocolate!
I hope you'll follow me along the way and cheer me on during the race, even if from afar. Maybe you'll even set your own goal and we can encourage each other. The sky's the limit... let's go for it!
Where does a half marathon fit into this? It's a little convoluted, so see if you can stay with me. Or maybe it's not convoluted at all. Yesterday I put on a pair of Adidas running pants that I haven't worn in a while. Instantly, they transformed me. I immediately felt comfortable; like coming home. Many people say this about finding the right church. When they walk in the door, they immediately feel like they're at home; like they're at peace with themselves and with the world. That's the way I felt when I put on these pants. They are me. They remind me that I'm an athlete. Maybe not an Olympic swimmer or a competitive athlete, but an athlete just the same. It's in my DNA. It's who I am. It's what I know. It's a God-given talent that's been put on a shelf to gather dust. All it needs is a little shaking off and a little practice to get all the pieces moving smoothly again. And then I'll be at the top of my game again... finally.
I have to have a goal. I've run 5Ks before and even 10Ks. I even ran a 10 mile race in Washington, DC. I never thought I'd want to run any farther than that, but where's the challenge in doing something I've already done before? So when my friend, Paula, mentioned that she's training for a half-marathon in February, that sounded like a good idea. The race is on February 19th, exactly 30 days from today. I haven't been running for at least the last 10 years. No running, whatsoever. Well, I did jog/walk around the track at the high school one day last year. But for all intents and purposes, I'd say I'm at ground zero. Most people look at me and think I'm in good shape. I'm not. We, as a society, equate being thin with being in shape. It's not. I can't do more than one or two push-ups. This is from the woman who did more push-ups than any other trainee in basic training. I could easily knock out 50 perfect push-ups. Now I'm lucky to do one. I may be thin, but I'm not in good shape. That's all going to change.
My goal in the next 30 days is threefold:
1) run the Livestrong half marathon on February 19th
2) be able to do 30 push-ups and 50 sit-ups
3) get my certification as a Certified Personal Trainer
I also intend to blog daily about my journey toward this goal. I already started jogging this morning. Yes, I had to walk alot, but I also jogged. I'm sure I'll be feeling it tomorrow. I'm practicing push-ups and dips and crunches and I'd even like to do some chin-ups if I can find a bar. I'm stretching my muscles to keep from cramping. And I'm going to start drinking my protein drinks again. I thought about going on a strict diet but I decided against it. I'll do the best I can but I'm not giving up my chocolate!
I hope you'll follow me along the way and cheer me on during the race, even if from afar. Maybe you'll even set your own goal and we can encourage each other. The sky's the limit... let's go for it!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The nature of friendship
Friends can be fickle. Friends can sometimes disappoint us. Friends can make us mad. Friends can have expectations of us. And friends can love us no matter what.
I'd like to be the kind of friend that would always be there, always be kind, always be helpful, and never expect anything in return. I admit that I haven't usually succeeded. In fact, I don't have that many real friends. I haven't made friends easily and I haven't seemed to keep them for the long run. I think I may be getting better though.
A few years ago, I met and made a really good friend. We connected on a very personal level and were comfortable with each other from the very beginning. We could talk about things that were important to us... God, kindness, and feelings. We cut through the usual small talk and understood each other. I was ecstatic to find that kind of connection, because those true friends had been missing from my life. It was pure and there were no ulterior motives, no expectations, and no holding back. It felt great!
We were friends for a year or maybe two and I thought we would be friends forever. This, I thought, was what friendship was all about. I just knew that we would always be friends, and had already been friends for many lifetimes. There was no doubt in my mind. So, when she stopped talking to me, I was understandably confused. What happened? Did I do something wrong? I searched through our last interactions and couldn't see that I had done anything. I needed to know, but how do I find out when she won't talk to me? The not knowing and the not understanding is much harder than knowing whatever terrible trait I must have and not be aware of. Even though I've read "The Four Agreements" and know not to make assumptions and take anything personally, how do you not take this personally? How do you get past something that makes so little sense and is so illogical?
I know that I didn't do anything wrong, but it still hurts. I did my best to talk to her, to write to her, to confront her, to question her. But I got no answers. It really crushed me. It smashed to pieces my faith in friendship and people. It reminded me why I've been protecting myself for so long from being abandoned and rejected. It reminded me that there was a reason that I've built so many walls that I've used to keep people out. It reminded me that people will always let you down. It reminded me that the only one I can really trust is God. I told myself that this is why it happened... to remind me that human beings are fallible. That they are human and will never be perfect.
I got over the loss. I had no choice. I did the best I could. It's probably been about 5 years since that all happened. I learned my lesson... not to expect too much from people. Over that time, I've occassionally reached out to reconnect to her, but my letters and emails brought no reply. Even so, 2 weeks ago I emailed her again, and this time she replied. She was happy that I had reached out and was happy to reconnect. She gave me her phone number, I called, and she was happy to hear from me. It could have been the day before she stopped talking to me.
I thought that I'd want to know why she stopped talking. I thought I would want to ask her, but I realize that it's not important. What purpose would it serve? Whatever it was, it's her stuff and it really has nothing to do with me. I just look forward to moving on. I can see that we do have the kind of friendship that can survive anything. We can pick up where we left off and practice being true friends. That means that I trust her again, and I trust in friendship. It can truly survive where other forms of love cannot. It is as unconditional as we can get. I hope we'll keep talking for the rest of both of our lives, but if we don't, I'll always think of her as my friend.
Thank you, "J", for coming back into my life. I promised you that I will always be your friend. Whether you are near or far, you will always be in my heart. Thank you for showing me that you never truly left.
I'd like to be the kind of friend that would always be there, always be kind, always be helpful, and never expect anything in return. I admit that I haven't usually succeeded. In fact, I don't have that many real friends. I haven't made friends easily and I haven't seemed to keep them for the long run. I think I may be getting better though.
A few years ago, I met and made a really good friend. We connected on a very personal level and were comfortable with each other from the very beginning. We could talk about things that were important to us... God, kindness, and feelings. We cut through the usual small talk and understood each other. I was ecstatic to find that kind of connection, because those true friends had been missing from my life. It was pure and there were no ulterior motives, no expectations, and no holding back. It felt great!
We were friends for a year or maybe two and I thought we would be friends forever. This, I thought, was what friendship was all about. I just knew that we would always be friends, and had already been friends for many lifetimes. There was no doubt in my mind. So, when she stopped talking to me, I was understandably confused. What happened? Did I do something wrong? I searched through our last interactions and couldn't see that I had done anything. I needed to know, but how do I find out when she won't talk to me? The not knowing and the not understanding is much harder than knowing whatever terrible trait I must have and not be aware of. Even though I've read "The Four Agreements" and know not to make assumptions and take anything personally, how do you not take this personally? How do you get past something that makes so little sense and is so illogical?
I know that I didn't do anything wrong, but it still hurts. I did my best to talk to her, to write to her, to confront her, to question her. But I got no answers. It really crushed me. It smashed to pieces my faith in friendship and people. It reminded me why I've been protecting myself for so long from being abandoned and rejected. It reminded me that there was a reason that I've built so many walls that I've used to keep people out. It reminded me that people will always let you down. It reminded me that the only one I can really trust is God. I told myself that this is why it happened... to remind me that human beings are fallible. That they are human and will never be perfect.
I got over the loss. I had no choice. I did the best I could. It's probably been about 5 years since that all happened. I learned my lesson... not to expect too much from people. Over that time, I've occassionally reached out to reconnect to her, but my letters and emails brought no reply. Even so, 2 weeks ago I emailed her again, and this time she replied. She was happy that I had reached out and was happy to reconnect. She gave me her phone number, I called, and she was happy to hear from me. It could have been the day before she stopped talking to me.
I thought that I'd want to know why she stopped talking. I thought I would want to ask her, but I realize that it's not important. What purpose would it serve? Whatever it was, it's her stuff and it really has nothing to do with me. I just look forward to moving on. I can see that we do have the kind of friendship that can survive anything. We can pick up where we left off and practice being true friends. That means that I trust her again, and I trust in friendship. It can truly survive where other forms of love cannot. It is as unconditional as we can get. I hope we'll keep talking for the rest of both of our lives, but if we don't, I'll always think of her as my friend.
Thank you, "J", for coming back into my life. I promised you that I will always be your friend. Whether you are near or far, you will always be in my heart. Thank you for showing me that you never truly left.
Monday, August 8, 2011
My first book submission... finally!
There are some areas of my life where I can really take charge, make a decision, and get things done quickly. Trying to get a book published is not one of them. I started writing my first book in 1993 or 1994. I just now submitted my first proposal to publishers. That's only 17 years later. I think that's a record for procrastination. Maybe it took me that long to finally realize that no one else is going to do this for me. No one else is going to help me publish my book. No one else is going to introduce me to an agent. No one is going to write the proposal for me. It's up to me, and it's time to quit talking and actually do something.
I don't know why it was so hard. I know that I can write. I know that I have something that people will want to read. I know that my particular style is unique and will resonate with some readers. And yet, I have been unable (until now) to finish writing a manuscript proposal. Thankfully, that's all in the past. I've busted through whatever the blockage was. Some might say "fear of failure" and others might say "fear of success". I wonder what it is. I think success, because I honestly don't think I'll fail. I've been blessed with the faith that I can do whatever I set my mind to doing. It's just that I haven't set my mind to really being successful. Until now.
For this first step, I have 2 people that I want to thank. The first one is Rudy Shur, who wrote a book titled "How to Publish your Nonfiction Book". It's a great book that explains very simply and in great detail, how to "maximize your odds of getting your work in print". The second one I want to thank is my sister, Janet, for editing my submission. I had no idea that she was so good at it. You may be sorry, Janet, because now you're going to have to edit my whole book!
Who wants to place an order for my book when it's published? Maybe if I can show a publisher that I already have 4 people lined up to buy it, they'll be more likely to spend thousands of dollars to publish it. What do you think?
I don't know why it was so hard. I know that I can write. I know that I have something that people will want to read. I know that my particular style is unique and will resonate with some readers. And yet, I have been unable (until now) to finish writing a manuscript proposal. Thankfully, that's all in the past. I've busted through whatever the blockage was. Some might say "fear of failure" and others might say "fear of success". I wonder what it is. I think success, because I honestly don't think I'll fail. I've been blessed with the faith that I can do whatever I set my mind to doing. It's just that I haven't set my mind to really being successful. Until now.
For this first step, I have 2 people that I want to thank. The first one is Rudy Shur, who wrote a book titled "How to Publish your Nonfiction Book". It's a great book that explains very simply and in great detail, how to "maximize your odds of getting your work in print". The second one I want to thank is my sister, Janet, for editing my submission. I had no idea that she was so good at it. You may be sorry, Janet, because now you're going to have to edit my whole book!
Who wants to place an order for my book when it's published? Maybe if I can show a publisher that I already have 4 people lined up to buy it, they'll be more likely to spend thousands of dollars to publish it. What do you think?
Friday, July 29, 2011
I'm sorry, Mom
My mom passed away 23 years ago. I never told her that I was sorry for the way that I treated her. Some people might say that it's a little late now to tell her how I feel. Some might say there's no point in dwelling on the past. Many might say that I should live in the present moment and let bygones be bygones. They would all be right.
But sometimes the past gets stuck in us and creates all kinds of problems. Sometimes we can't seem to move forward because there's something holding us back. And in probably all cases, that something is in the past. To ignore the past seems counterproductive to me.
I was never close to my mother. In fact, I pushed her away continuously. I felt like she didn't give me the time, attention, and affection that I needed when I was a child. I literally begged her for attention. I even wrote her a letter. I bared my little ten year old soul and she was too busy to listen. That was the last time I asked. One letter... one rejection... sometimes that's all it takes. There must have been more instances, but this is the one that I remember vividly. From that day forward, I quit asking, I quit talking, I quit listening, I quit trying to have a relationship with my mother. I ignored her, I made snide comments to her, I made all kinds of excuses to be anywhere but with her. I never opened myself up for rejection again. By God, I was going to reject her before she could ever reject me again. I've been holding onto this technique ever since.
I'm sure my mother never understood why I had so much animosity toward her. I didn't understand it myself. One thing I know for sure is that it doesn't just go away by itself. It doesn't even go away when the object of our animosity is no longer here. Where does it go? It gets stuck inside and comes out in all kinds of ways. The anger simmers beneath the surface and boils over anytime and anywhere, sometimes for no apparent reason. Anything can trigger it.
I also felt a deep sadness dwelling inside of me. I didn't understand that either. I think that it's similar to mourning. I'm not mourning my mother's passing so much as I'm mourning the loss of those 24 years when we could have had a relationship and didn't. I'm mourning the fact that I can never get those years back. I'm mourning the fact that I never told her that I was sorry.
Now what? I can keep beating myself up for being a lousy daughter. I can transfer the anger that I felt toward her inward toward myself. I can keep rejecting anyone who comes into my life before they get the chance to reject me. Or I can make a conscious decision to change. I choose that answer. I didn't have a choice before, because I didn't know why I was doing what I was doing. I didn't like being that way, which only contributed to even more frustration. So, it's like a weight lifting off of my shoulders to have this understanding. With understanding comes the ability to make different choices.
I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry we missed out on the closeness that mothers and daughters should have. I'm sorry that I was never able to love you and appreciate you fully. I'm sorry that I wasn't with you when you died. I'm sorry that I never forgave you. I forgive you now. Do you forgive me?
But sometimes the past gets stuck in us and creates all kinds of problems. Sometimes we can't seem to move forward because there's something holding us back. And in probably all cases, that something is in the past. To ignore the past seems counterproductive to me.
I was never close to my mother. In fact, I pushed her away continuously. I felt like she didn't give me the time, attention, and affection that I needed when I was a child. I literally begged her for attention. I even wrote her a letter. I bared my little ten year old soul and she was too busy to listen. That was the last time I asked. One letter... one rejection... sometimes that's all it takes. There must have been more instances, but this is the one that I remember vividly. From that day forward, I quit asking, I quit talking, I quit listening, I quit trying to have a relationship with my mother. I ignored her, I made snide comments to her, I made all kinds of excuses to be anywhere but with her. I never opened myself up for rejection again. By God, I was going to reject her before she could ever reject me again. I've been holding onto this technique ever since.
I'm sure my mother never understood why I had so much animosity toward her. I didn't understand it myself. One thing I know for sure is that it doesn't just go away by itself. It doesn't even go away when the object of our animosity is no longer here. Where does it go? It gets stuck inside and comes out in all kinds of ways. The anger simmers beneath the surface and boils over anytime and anywhere, sometimes for no apparent reason. Anything can trigger it.
I also felt a deep sadness dwelling inside of me. I didn't understand that either. I think that it's similar to mourning. I'm not mourning my mother's passing so much as I'm mourning the loss of those 24 years when we could have had a relationship and didn't. I'm mourning the fact that I can never get those years back. I'm mourning the fact that I never told her that I was sorry.
Now what? I can keep beating myself up for being a lousy daughter. I can transfer the anger that I felt toward her inward toward myself. I can keep rejecting anyone who comes into my life before they get the chance to reject me. Or I can make a conscious decision to change. I choose that answer. I didn't have a choice before, because I didn't know why I was doing what I was doing. I didn't like being that way, which only contributed to even more frustration. So, it's like a weight lifting off of my shoulders to have this understanding. With understanding comes the ability to make different choices.
I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry we missed out on the closeness that mothers and daughters should have. I'm sorry that I was never able to love you and appreciate you fully. I'm sorry that I wasn't with you when you died. I'm sorry that I never forgave you. I forgive you now. Do you forgive me?
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
What kind of girlfriend is right for you?
Why is it that opposites attract, but we always seem to be looking for "like-minded" partners? We want someone who likes to do the same things we like to do. We want someone who believes in the same things we believe in. We want someone who is stable, dependable, trustworthy, and honest (even though we may not be). But in many cases, we're attracted to the exact opposite. What's up with that?
If you are shy, quiet, and introspective, you may be attracted to someone who is outgoing, extroverted, and who says everything that pops into her head. She's going to seem like lots of fun... for awhile. But can you live with that kind of person for long? She'll probably drive you crazy after a month or two or even a year. And you'll drive her crazy too.
So, before you start writing your wedding vows with the first girl who smiles at you, take a good hard look at your age, maturity level, attitude, and the amount of patience that you possess. You may prefer a young inexperienced girlfriend, who like a puppy, will be easily molded by your personality. She will pick up your neuroses, bad habits, impatience, and behavior problems. That's a big responsibility. If you're worried that she may develop an uncontrollable tic after being exposed for long periods of time to your influence, then consider an older, more mature girlfriend. You'll know more about how she will turn out.
The down side of this is that you don't know what kinds of things in her background will surface down the road. You don't know what kind of baggage she's carrying until she hits you over the head with it. You might be tempted to search for someone who has no baggage, but that's almost impossible. You'd have to go back to early childhood, and even if it wasn't illegal and immoral, you probably wouldn't really be happy with a 2 year old for a girlfriend. So, decide on something within the range of no experience to someone who's been married 14 times and is still looking for the "right one".
Why can't anything be simple?
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
It's raining! It's 3:22pm... let's see how long it lasts.
I think the last rain we got here in Austin lasted about 90 seconds, so I'm hoping for a longer rain today. So far, it's been 3 minutes, so we've already beaten the previous effort. My beautiful water-hogging St Augustine grass that used to be a lush green is now as brittle and colorful as straw. The sparse bleeps of green come from patches of weeds. Before I put in the St Augustine grass about 5 years ago, my yard was always green, even during droughts. It wasn't grass that kept it green, but dandelions and 3 leaf clovers (never any luck-bringing 4 leaf clovers) and onion grass and other weeds. You can't kill weeds with only a little old drought. Those suckers know how to survive. There's alot to be said for weeds. First of all, it's way cheaper to plant weeds than buying pallets upon pallets of St Augustine. In fact, it costs nothing to grow weeds and maintain them. They stay green year round.
St Augustine grass is not only expensive to install and expensive to maintain, but also expensive in terms of time. The first year or 2 that I had this beautiful grass, I spent hours on my hands and knees plucking out individual weeds by their roots. It was actually fun. I was probably only helping the weeds to multiply because I rarely got the whole weed by the entire root. But it was a challenge to crawl around on my hands and knees on this lush lawn. This had a few drawbacks however. First of all, the people who laid my grass failed to level the dirt before they laid it down, so there were high and low points. They said that it would eventually fill in on it's own, but I have to wonder what they meant by "eventually". Obviously 5 years isn't long enough because I'm still constantly stepping into holes and uneven places. This, however, is not nearly as disturbing as the other reason that I spend little time nowadays crawling or walking on the grass.
The rain has stopped and it's 3:40... a total of 18 minutes. The first 5 minutes were a good hard rain and the rest was a drizzle. My grass isn't green yet. I doubt the rain even penetrated the hard crusty outer shell of sun-baked dirt. Oh well... I suppose it's better than nothing.
The second reason I don't like my grass anymore is that the neighborhood cats love it. Those plump full blades of grass must feel delightful on a cat's little bottom as it squats to defecate. They seem to relish my lawn as they drop their processed breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How something so small can smell so aromatic is beyond me. I can smell it at least 20 yards away, even though it's impossible to see. It drops down between the blades of grass and disappears, while it's fragrance wafts upward and outward. My dogs can find it like heat seeking missiles, which makes matters even worse. It smells so irresistible to dogs that they will follow their noses directly to the spot, burrow into the grass, and emerge triumphant with the offending delicacy between their teeth. Before I even realize what they're doing, they've finished consuming it and are looking for more. The up side is that I won't step in it now and the down side is that my dogs have perpetually horrendous breath.
The moral of this long-winded story is that grass is overrated. I'd rather take it all out and plant native Texas cactus and plants that require little or no water. However, this would require some effort on my part and I'm not in the mood. So, my current plan is to let the grass die and the weeds grow back. That seems pretty native, don't you think?
St Augustine grass is not only expensive to install and expensive to maintain, but also expensive in terms of time. The first year or 2 that I had this beautiful grass, I spent hours on my hands and knees plucking out individual weeds by their roots. It was actually fun. I was probably only helping the weeds to multiply because I rarely got the whole weed by the entire root. But it was a challenge to crawl around on my hands and knees on this lush lawn. This had a few drawbacks however. First of all, the people who laid my grass failed to level the dirt before they laid it down, so there were high and low points. They said that it would eventually fill in on it's own, but I have to wonder what they meant by "eventually". Obviously 5 years isn't long enough because I'm still constantly stepping into holes and uneven places. This, however, is not nearly as disturbing as the other reason that I spend little time nowadays crawling or walking on the grass.
The rain has stopped and it's 3:40... a total of 18 minutes. The first 5 minutes were a good hard rain and the rest was a drizzle. My grass isn't green yet. I doubt the rain even penetrated the hard crusty outer shell of sun-baked dirt. Oh well... I suppose it's better than nothing.
The second reason I don't like my grass anymore is that the neighborhood cats love it. Those plump full blades of grass must feel delightful on a cat's little bottom as it squats to defecate. They seem to relish my lawn as they drop their processed breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How something so small can smell so aromatic is beyond me. I can smell it at least 20 yards away, even though it's impossible to see. It drops down between the blades of grass and disappears, while it's fragrance wafts upward and outward. My dogs can find it like heat seeking missiles, which makes matters even worse. It smells so irresistible to dogs that they will follow their noses directly to the spot, burrow into the grass, and emerge triumphant with the offending delicacy between their teeth. Before I even realize what they're doing, they've finished consuming it and are looking for more. The up side is that I won't step in it now and the down side is that my dogs have perpetually horrendous breath.
The moral of this long-winded story is that grass is overrated. I'd rather take it all out and plant native Texas cactus and plants that require little or no water. However, this would require some effort on my part and I'm not in the mood. So, my current plan is to let the grass die and the weeds grow back. That seems pretty native, don't you think?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)