Well, all right, I decided to write something, but a I’m still at the stage where it could wind up being really literal , such as: SOMETHING.
So, I have been outside and fiddled with the weedeater and used the electric mower a wee bit in back; I am envisioning the backyard a solid mass of hostas – sort of like the tulip fields, only perennial and green and white striped.
Last evening we put out the trash, stomped and ready, but it was not picked up this morning. At first I thought about walking over to the brick wall of the house and banging my head against it, but then I remembered Monday was Memorial Day and trash days are delayed by a day. My forgetfulness could have initiated headbanging, but I thought maybe there might be a connection between the two. What I need are soft bricks.