Sometimes, This is What it Takes

I didn't have a productive day and I felt guilty, ashamed. This evening, to shake off  feeling like a lazy slob, I mowed our lawn which takes two hours to complete. It got my heart rate up, I got all sweaty and totally congested from grass stuff that's like pollen I suppose.

Paul planted the dozen plants we picked up at the wholesale nursery yesterday. Our housemate Chuck (he's totally straight) spread Emu topsoil over the perennial beds. As it began to get dark, about nine, Chuck and I went to buy burritos to bring home.

The three of us sat at our tasteful kitchen counter chowing, me sneezing snot on my glasses, and talking mostly about people who perpetuate silly stereotypes about homos; we all have great taste (so not true), are terrific cooks (again a big old lie) and give better head than chicks (true and if you need proof...).

So here at the end of a lousy day I wanted gospel music. This group sings an anthem.  It is rousing and refreshing as a delicate passion fruit sorbet, miraculous like Robin's eggs, tiny, perfect-blue shells inside their tiny twig-nest just before they're eaten by a pack of coyotes.

Happy Friday. Jesus loves you. So do I.