I've concluded that nature is an ingrate. You drag sprinklers around in the hot sun, spray water (i.e., money) all over the lawn, and end up with weeds and crabgrass. Now, after feeding flying freeloaders (birds) all my life, they're invading my space. They remind me of cable TV salespeople: Give them an inch and… Continue reading Never mind the horse, the birds are out of the barn
Stories from the South and the subconscious