Near 500 words: Lawn-othology

Verily I say unto you. It is written in the Holy Writ of Lawn Care.

In the beginning, God created The Lawn. And it wasn’t just any lawn. It was The Lawn. And He separated it from the Non-Lawn. And that was the First Day.

On the Second Day, God created Lawn Care and He sowed The Lawn with seeds. Was it crab grass or St. Augustine grass or Kentucky blue grass? Could it have been Bermuda or Zoysia? Then again it might have been Fine or Tall Fescue. I’m voting for St. Augustine. Nobody knows for sure but we do know that–

On the Third Day, God fertilized that Lawn. And He fertilized with Grade-A cow manure. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been any reason for cows. This was way before the Hindus worshipped the Cow and definitely before those Got Milk commercials.

On the Fourth Day, God watered The Lawn. With rain, no less. In fact, it rained and rained so much and so hard that Noah’s flood was a stream of a flood compared to the Fourth Day’s rain.

On the Fifth Day, God kicked back to admire His work. But there is no rest for the weary. He gandered across that First Lawn and caught sight of a wee itty bitty weed goofing up His work of perfection. So God had a Himself a big breakfast and went off and did some first class weeding.

On the Sixth Day, God realized that The Lawn had gotten out of hand. God being God, He was a First Class Problem Solver. He made Himself a Man to keep up with all the seeding and fertilizing and watering and weeding.

So on the Seventh Day, God looked down from His Throne and saw that His Work was done and He could rest. For there was Man, and there was a lawn that needed mowing.

And to make sure that things were A-okay, it is also written in the Holy Writ, God’s Ten Tips For A Happy Lawn:
Thou shalt mow thy lawn.
Thou shalt mow thy lawn often. So thy neighbors won’t complain.
Thou shalt keep up with the Joneses and cut thy lawn just right.
Thou shalt not envy thy neighbor’s lawn mower.
Thou shalt not let thy neighbor’s dog poop, or thine for that matter, on thy lawn.
Thou shalt not let the weeds choke thy grass.
Thou shalt win blue ribbons for the best lawn in thy town.
Thou shalt not curse thy lawn.
Thou shalt remember that thy lawn has feelings.
So thou shalt give thy lawn its own Facebook page.
Amen.

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They bought themselves a boat

Another lyric. Inspired by the movie, “Tempest”.

They bought themselves a boat
They thought they’d sail to the islands
They bought themselves a boat
They thought they’d sail to the islands

Then a storm came along
The boat they’d bought it crashed and sank
Then a storm came along
The boat they’d bought it crashed and sank

The soul is an island
In the deep deep waters
The island is on no map
No gps can find it

They could’ve drowned at sea
Instead they made it to the island
They could’ve drowned at sea
Instead they made it to the island

This island, it was green
A paradise an Eden was
This island, it was green
A paradise an Eden was

The soul is an island
In the deep deep waters
The island is on no map
No gps can find it

If you’re one for sailing
Hire a boat goodly sturdy
If you’re one for sailing
Hire a boat goodly sturdy

So when you hit the storms
Your boat will not be sinking
So when you hit the storms
Your boat will not be sinking

The soul is an island
In the deep deep waters
The island is on no map
No gps can find it

Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Creator: James Baldwin

Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Creator Spotlight is James Baldwin:

A prophet does not predict the future. Predicting the future is the work of the oracle. A prophet speaks the truth. Not because he or she finds it easy to do so. It is not easy to speak the truth. Because they make angry those they love or those who have the power to destroy them. A prophet simply does not have any choice. Just ask Amos or Jeremiah of Old Testament fame. They have been driven to speak what they must speak no matter the consequences.

A prophet has to be fierce in their determination and show no doubt of the truth they are speaking. And they are fierce and show no doubt because that truth has lodged in them a very long time. Maybe as far back as the beginning of time.

James Baldwin was fierce and he was a prophet. And he was an outsider as prophets are. He was an outsider twice over. Not only was he an African American. He was also a gay man.

Being an outsider, he left the United States and went off to France. It was there he learned to live as a human being. It was there he learned write brilliantly. It was there he learned to speak the truth.

From abroad he saw with a clear view the destructiveness of racism for both blacks and whites. He saw how that hatred was tearing the country apart and would ultimately destroy. And continues to do so. He came home to the United States and began to speak Truth. And he spoke it with love. Perhaps it’s time we should listen.

James Baldwin’s biography

Near 500 words:Elgar

The farm was dying. Elgar knew it. His wife, Beatrice, knew it. His son, Jock, knew it. The question was what to do with it. After all, it had been his great grandfather’s, his grandfather’s, his father’s. For three generations before him, the farm had prospered. Fed the family. Kept them happy. Now he had failed. But not one of his forebears had had to deal with the droughts of the last several years.

Elgar’s feet were rooted in the soil like a tree. Elgar wrestled with the what-to-dos like Jacob wrestling with the angel long ago. To pull up and seek a new life, Beatrice and Jock knew would kill Elgar.

The farm was dying. God had abandoned this land Elgar loved so much. As the other farmers sold out and moved away, Elgar became lonelier and lonelier. When you’re the last of your kind, it’s hard to avoid the isolation, the alienation.

The tall, thin farmer walked his land one last time. As he did, he came upon his father’s old tractor seat, that “seat of power” where Dad ruled his domain. If his father had taught him anything, it was not to dominate the land. But to be its steward. It was still not too late to return to his father’s ethic.

He reached down and took the seat from the tractor, raised it above his head and began to dance. It wasn’t a rain dance. It wasn’t a folk dance. It was the dance of a man who loved his land.

An overheard conversation

Recently I was in a local museum, walking from painting to painting. There was a couple ahead of me admiring the paintings.

“I will tell you, Carla. The woman does not look happy,” the man said.

“But, George, that’s cause she’s dead,” Carla said, then pinched her friend.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?”

Carla laughed. “Checking to see if you’re alive.”

“I’m alive? Of course, I’m alive,” George objected.

“You wouldn’t be happy if you were dead either.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, then said, “Then I wouldn’t have to put up with you.”

Carla puckered her lips. “Give us a kiss.” Her lips came close to George. He tried to move away. “C’mon. Give us a kiss, then I can bite that tongue off.”

He backed away from her. “You’d do that.”

“Course I would cause you’re such a downer.”

They took one final look at the Roman matriarch, then moved on.