I usually like the rain. When its not tied up in some big storm, its almost peaceful. The dim, grey sky, drops of water falling from the heavens. The affirmation of life, as all living things that the rain touches, reach up and embrace the giving water.

Usually I like the rain. However, in recent times I have lost my zest for rain. The reason? My grass. Somewhere between where I was, and here, I ended up with a landing strip sized amount of grass to cut. Its freakin' huge. What complicates this chore even more is, my allergies. If its green, I sneeze. That's the rule. And there's lots of dust in the air when you cut grass. If I do the chore, I've resigned myself to an evening of snorting and blowing. It's fairly unpleasant.

So the lush green-ness of my front yard does not impress me. It actually depresses me. Anyone for an asphalt front lawn?

Toodles.