• A vast, green grass conspiracy.

    The elements are conspiring to turn my yard into a rain forest. In case you didn’t already know, we’ve been getting a lot of rain. That wouldn’t necessarily be a problem; in fact, rain is generally considered to be a good thing for green growing things. What we have here is a problem in the timing.

    I go to work.
    I call decide to mow the lawn.
    I go home.
    The rain begins to fall.

    Last weekend was relatively dry, but my sister was moving. A window of opportunity opened Monday, but I was too tired to move. Then the evening showers came back. I know there was a really good reason not to mow the grass two weeks ago, I just can’t remember what that reason was. I know there was an even better reason not to mow the grass three weeks ago, but you know the drill by now.

    They say that we’ve already surpassed the average rainfall total for 08/and it’s only the twenty-first. Couple that with a three week layoff for the lawnmower, and you can just imagine what my yard must look like. Better Homes and Gardens wasn’t breaking down our door before the layoff, but this is bad even by our own meager standards. The other day Beth ran around the side of the house upon our return from school. She was eager to play on her swings. She returned moments later with a frightened look on her face. Yes, it is that bad.

    I can hear the rain falling again. Am I crazy, or can I hear the grass growing? On second thought, don’t answer that.

  • Moving day.

    I participated in my first move in several years this weekend. There was a time when I moved more often than I went out to eat. Lately though, there has been a welcome reprieve. However, an opportunity came up this weekend that I could not refuse: my sister was moving into her first house. I know from experience that this is a wonderfully exciting time and I just had to be there. Unfortunately for me, it is now the “day after”, and I find myself short about a month’s worth of enthusiasm. Despite the aches and pains, the lumber in my step, the creak in my bones – I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The only way it could have been better is if I was the one moving into a new house. Ah, but that would mean that I would have to move. Come to think of it, no thanks.

  • Not every ending is happy.

    Why do we submit ourselves to sorrow? Life is hard enough, yet we remind ourselves that it can be harder. I’m speaking of movies that end badly. Not bad in the sense that they are poorly crafted; rather, they end on a sad note. The good guy does not prevail. Good does not defeat evil. The hero does not pull it out in the end.

    I’ve just finished watching such a movie, and I’m left feeling a little depressed; more so by the fact that it was supposed to be based on a true story. I’ve taken a perfectly good day and flushed it down the toilet. What’s more, this is not the first time I’ve done it. I know what it’s like to finish a “depressing” movie, but I sit down and watch another one anyway – like an alcoholic who takes a drink knowing he’ll be hung over in the morning. I didn’t really have any fun in between though.

    Not everything we do in life is because it is fun. Even so, where does this leave me with depressing movies? What do we get out of them? What brings us back for more? Am I just a closet masochist?