I realized after weeks of inactivity I'm loosing my keen edge from weeding. Not wanting to become a human vegetable at a desk, I figured it was time to do something. So I strapped on my shoes and headed out for a run. (Shocking I know).
Breathing, er steadily, I turned down the dirt road that marks the second half of my almost mile run determined to complete the course. After a few strides I heard the musical notes of gunshots. Looking up I noticed a brush pile burning along side the distant orchard as more shots rang out.
Seeing no one, and thinking running toward trees that's masking my unknown neighbor enjoying target practice, was a poor idea I accepted wisdom and concluded this was Heaven's way of saying "well done good and faithful servant." So I promptly turned around and headed home.
After all, who am I to buck Providence?........and then I flooded the garden.
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