No more Okie Dokie to mowing at LaGrange today; I had to man this fort this morning and by the time I got gas – in my car and in my containers, it would be mid-afternoon before I actually began chugging. That’s if I don’t have to jump start the mower – not exactly a major time consuming task, but a sighing and eye-rolling one that doesn’t do much for morale.

Today I am using the “everything into boxes to be sorted later” method of housekeeping. I definitely have too much stuff out. Or, looking at it another way, I have too much stuff out and no housekeeper to keep everything just so. Actually, I have so much stuff that even a good housekeeper could only do a so-so job. Me? You don’t want to think about it.

But, tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and when I think of mowing, I hear an Okie Dokie. I’ll get up there early, putter around while the dew dries and then plop on my hat, spray my repellant and become tractor person. I think I may mow creatively, rather than efficiently – maybe I’ll even write my name. Were I younger, I would get a part-time job and put all my money toward bushwhacker equipment like the show on television – and maybe a wood-chipper. Maybe big ole Wellington boots, too.

These are my daydreams????? Holy Moses!! What happened to my expensive SUV with a sunroof and a house on the Pacific Ocean with an infinity pool?

Yes, Rose just cozied up to me and sasid, “AmeliaJake, I really can’t see myself with a professional grade weed-eater . . .” Ah, Rose, always the one with good sense.