Freewheeling

I pulled weeds, a lot of weeds, a mountain of weeds.  The entire front of the rock garden is now bare.  I like weeding (and isn't that a good thing, since I've got so much raw material?).  It is a grand time to let the mind go freewheeling and ponder the deep questions of life.  Why is it that ladybugs are prone to burning houses?  Who was watching the children anyway?  ("Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home!  Your house is on fire, your children will burn!")  Was there ever a time when dragonflies breathed fire?  How did pigs get such a bad rep when they are one of the cleanest, most fastidious animals?  I never mind the bending over, it's the straightening up that becomes difficult.  It became time for a stiff drink to prevent a stiff back.  That's called self-medicating.

Bess had the opportunity to fulfill her destiny last evening.  Two of the hobbits escaped while I was bent over in the hobbit house, putting the little kids to bed.  I'm not one to place blame or point a finger, but someone who shall remain nameless pushed the gate open with her nose just far enough to allow a getaway.  Bessie Anne lives to herd chickens.  I went after one (extricating myself from the dog run) and Bess took off in the high weeds after the other.  Pullets are fast, but Bess was like a heat-seeking missile.  Fortunately, she has a "soft" mouth and only pinned the chicken to the ground without hurting it in the least, and released it to me immediately.  Bess, an amalgam of many, many breeds, obviously has some bird dog in her genes.

It being Mother's Day, most of my Kids (Pete, as always, will be missed) are coming up today.  Taco salad is on the menu!  I baked a cookie recipe from the Kids' childhood...something like a Reese's peanut butter bar.  It seemed only fitting for a mother to do.