When Sandra Bullock, in the 1995 movie "The Net," played a computer nerd whose identity was stolen and replaced by a criminal's identity, I developed a fear of losing my fingerprints. I considered taking my own fingerprints and putting them in a lockbox.
Large green circles surrounded the Prairie house like polka-dots where the circular sprinklers struggled to maintain the lawn.
It was 1968, and the movie was "Funny Girl." Fanny Brice (played by Barbra Streisand) convinced the Broadway director she could roller skate. In the scene "Rollerskate Rag," Barbra rolls out on stage knocking down everyone in sight.
The Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. Genesis 1:2b
There's no reason under the sun the ducks should have survived this long, but there they are, waddling as fast as they can toward the house.
For Father's Day I gave Sam four white buckets and some blue cargo shorts. When I bought the buckets, a lady in the parking lot rolled her window down and hollered, "Those are fishing buckets! Wish I was fishing!"
Looks like we're into snake season. I've seen more snakes in the past few weeks than I've seen in the last decade, or maybe ever.
I was sitting on the porch and staring at the cat in my lap when the phone rang.
Just the holiday leftovers included three bags of Scoops, a 46-ounce container of cashews, a bag of Skinny Popcorn, a half-indulged container of coffee and cookies ice cream and half a bag of empty Coke cans.
Across the field above the sedge was a dark shadow. I thought it a squirrel and continued to watch the shadow as it rose higher and higher above the blowing grass.
Among gardens, garden centers, statuaries and yard art, the stone figure of a monk gently holding a bird in open hand is sometimes found. The statue of the robed monk is St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals and ecology. But what of the monk who holds a spade?
This time of year I find it hard to do anything but work in the yard.
Remember when "the birds and the bees" was a euphemism for the "facts of life" which was a euphemism for sex?
With my own eyes I saw the carpenter bee wiggle into a hole in the wall right beside the recycle bin.
I suspected Jane Goodall was dead, only to discover she is very much alive and, on April 3, celebrated her 81st birthday.
Jack Henry, Jack for short, is my cat, and he's finally given up trying to force himself on top of my laptop computer.
A few weeks ago I looked out the window only to see the earth moving. Then out from under the fallen oak leaves scattered across the field, hundreds of robins popped forth, foraging for worms. Robins move ahead of warm fronts, and the rains had made the ground soft, easier for digging worms.
A couple of weeks ago I took a short drive from the Prairie, and a disturbing thing happened. I've pondered it ever since.
For the second time in a week the ground was covered with snow and ice. The first storm left mounds of snow covering outbuildings, vehicles and piling right up to the lake water's edge. The pristine snow made the white ducks look dingy.
On days when fishing is out of the question and the 24/7 news has taken its circuitous route about dozen times and the SEC channel is showing decades-old football games, Sam opens a book.
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