I'm sitting in the kitchen, with my window shades down and my doors locked up tight.
The raging mob My neighbors are out there, waiting. If they can catch me, I know what's going to happen...
...they're going to drag me out by my hair, throw me behind my lawnmower, and make me cut down my thriving dandelion patch.
I can only assume that's what's going to happen, of course. But I'd say it was a safe guess. After all, despite the fierce heat and humidity,
the angry gang my neighbors have managed to keep their lawns green and nicely trimmed.
My lawn, however, is a drought-burned eyesore with an army of dry, two-foot tall dandelion stalks.
I'm really not being a curmudgeon; it's just that I'm plain worn out by the heat. Last night and tonight, I fully intended to mow, but there were downpours during commuting hours both nights. Tomorrow, I've got a meeting (you know, "a meeting...")after work, so I guess I won't be doing anything about this debacle until the weekend.
Which means the
horde of irate nice neighbors are waiting.
(This is all a joke -- my neighbors are lovely, and goodness knows how they put up with the old lady who destroys the value of their properties!)
Edit: I mowed last night. I wish I could say that the cars driving by beeped their horns or that the entire neighborhood did the wave. I would have really, really liked a slow clap on the last lap a la Cool Runnings or Strictly Ballroom. But, noooo. No one gave me any love. On the other hand, now my lawn looks like the other lawns. Brown.