All she wanted was lemonade

Her name was Carol. She was just like any of us. She woke up every morning and put one pant leg on at a time, and ate a lackluster breakfast. She would sing in the shower. She loved sipping hot chocolate on a cold winter day. And, she loved a cool, refreshing glass of lemonade on those hot summer days.

It was this love for lemonade that did her in. 

It was mid July. Carol had gone out to her garden to do some weeding. After vigorously arguing her case with a rather stubborn dandelion and losing, she came back inside, her brow dotted with large beads of sweat. As she entered the house she thought to herself, "It sure would be nice to have a glass of lemonade." So, she went to the kitchen. On the counter was a glass of opaque liquid with what looked to be lemonade pulp at the bottom. Parched and worn, she reached for it and glugged it down. It was perhaps the strangest lemonade she had ever had. The pulp seemed to have a life of its own. 

Everything became clearer as her nephew Tommy came in from another room and screamed, "MY SEA MONKEYS! YOU KILLED MY SEA MONKEYS!" As little Tommy began bawling, Carol had the sudden urge to vomit.

But, swallowing sea monkeys* and upsetting her nephew was not all she had done. She also incurred the wrath of PETA. After Carol's story was made headline news, due to her lawsuit suing the sea monkey company for her horrible new chronic abdominal troubles, PETA wanted in. 

"Those sea monkeys were kept in a cramped, poorly oxygenated glass for days, and it was only a matter of time before someone drank them or they boiled in the a cloud of their own excrement," said Suzanne Zibilsky of PETA. "We will pursue this case to the fullest extent we can. Sea monkeys are just like you and me. They can feel, and taste, and even know how to swim. Yet, they have become second class life forms. We value all life." Carol and Tommy have both received court summons on behalf of the sea monkeys' remaining living relatives in conjunction with PETA.

People have been protesting for the past several months on Carol's lawn, even going so far as to trample her garden. Looking at the bright side Carol said, "Well, at least I don't have to pull out that dandelion. It's dead. Probably in the same place as those blessed sea monkeys."

* Sea monkeys are brine shrimp (very intelligent Brine Shrimp, that are basically aquatic Tamarin monkeys (the cute ones that help old people read books, and the same kind featured on the TV series "Friends")

I love weed whackers!

Waking up can be a challenge. But, waking up is just one of those things we all have to do. So, if it's got to happen it should be under favorable circumstances. Well, I am so blessed on certain random weekday mornings.

I used to be a landscaper. Let me start with that. It is an admirable profession. It takes creativity, physical strength, patience, and if you're paying for it, plenty of money. Now there happen to be some very zealous landscapers who work on the complex next to my house. They love weed whackers. I love weed whackers. We all love weed whackers. So, what better to wake up to in the morning that that melodic hum and grind of a 1.5 liter weed whacker engine? It's great.

I don't need my alarm clock. It gets drowned out anyway. And, if I try to be sneaky and sleep in, the weed whackers come closer to my room window to make sure I don't get lazy. Next thing you know, they'll bring me weed-whacked vegetable omelettes. They are so good to me. Sleeping in past 7:20am is just not in my best interest, and they know it. Even if I went to bed only a few short hours before, it's a new DAY! Sunshine! Rise and shine! And look, your neighbor's lawn is nice a groomed for the third time this week. 

I know why they're coming over so much too. Pretty soon it will be winter, so they're in overhaul mode during fall to get paid as much as possible even if there really isn't anything worth whacking. That seems only fair. It's not what needs to get done that matters, it's how many times you can trick people into paying you for the same job, as long as they believe its necessary. And I know, they need to feed their little ones, and that's more important than my sleep or state of mind. Bless them.