Spring Language

Gradually over the last couple of weeks the flora has turned from a deep brown to a bright green. Asparagus has poked through the earth's crust, lilacs are budding, violets have opened, and #3 is trying his best to describe what he sees. Case in point, two yellow blooming flowers: dan-der-lions and daf-fer-dills.

Now the contest is on: how long can I wait until I have to mow the grass? This is an unofficial contest my neighbors and I have waged. Last year I was second to last, this year will I be last? Who knows. When we first moved here a gentleman from the church mowed the grass for me. But there were two problems, no three, with this situation. 1. He would always start mowing when #1 was napping. #2 he would get too close to my garden beds (I think he knew this made me a nervous wreck). #3 he would always mow over our tulips. Eventually I wound up mowing the grass myself. I do, however, miss the service if for nothing else the gentleman mowed the grass at the highest speed possible and would drink diet beer while doing so. I had seen men drink while playing golf, while bowling, selling cars, playing cards but never while mowing grass - a New England memory if there ever was one.

Furthermore, it is time for my annual Dan Champion memorial sentence. Dan Champion was a dear classmate and friend from seminary. One day while eating lunch Dan mentioned how frivolous the late night programming was on ESPN2, yet people still watch it. He said he bet if ESPN2 put two guys passing baseball people would watch it. As #2 and I passed ball yesterday I thought you know I bet I would watch two guys passing baseball...

Miss you Dan.