Lawn Care Just to get you in the mood

[retired2]

Lawn Care





GOD to ST. FRANCIS:
Frank, .... You know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there

on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started

eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of

soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting

blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast

garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.

St. FRANCIS:
It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers

'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD:
Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colourful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees;

only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really

want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each

spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD:
The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make

the Suburbanites happy.



ST. FRANCIS:
Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.

GOD:
They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?



ST. FRANCIS:
Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD:
They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS:
No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD:
Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow,

they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS:
Yes, Sir.

GOD:
These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and

turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.



ST. FRANCIS:
You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag

out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to

get rid of it.

GOD:
What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius,

if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in

the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep

moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.



ST. FRANCIS:
You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the

leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

GOD:
No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil

moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS:
After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch.

They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD:
And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS:
They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD:
Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore.

St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?



ST. CATHERINE:
'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about....

GOD:
Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

[retired2]

My Father Is A Dancer
>
> One day a fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up - fireman, mechanic, businessman, salesman... and so forth..
>
> However, little Phil Jr. was being uncharacteristically quiet, so when the teacher prodded him about his father, he replied, "My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes to music in front of other men and they put money in his underwear. Sometimes, if the offer is really good, he will go home with some guy and stay with him all night for money."
>
> The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and took little Phil Jr. aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?"
>
> "No," the boy said, "He plays hockey for the Toronto Maple Leafs, but it's too embarrassing to say that in front of the other kids."

[retired2]

This is dedicated to all of us who are seniors and to all of you who will become seniors.


"WHERE is my SUNDAY paper?" The irate customer calling the newspaper

office, loudly demanded to know where her Sunday edition was.

"Madam," said the newspaper employee, "today is Saturday. The Sunday
​ ​

paper

is not delivered until tomorrow, on SUNDAY!"

There was quite a long pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a ray of recognition as she was heard to mutter......

"Well, shit, that explains why no one was at church either."

P.S. Until you retire, you cannot fully appreciate this!

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