Front Yard Performances

I should start collecting money from the neighbors who can see my front yard from their living rooms. Since I moved in, they haven't had to leave home or rent a movie for quality entertainment. I bet someone has slid a chair over to their picture window, so they are ready just in case I happen to be out attempting yard work. Last winter they had the rare privilege of watching a six foot tall man shovel his entire driveway and sidewalk with a broken extendable emergency shovel. Me an My Electric Mower was the surprise hit of the spring. The first time I tried mowing the lawn with that miserable machine I had to storm inside to cool off before I could finish. I must have unplugged the damn thing two dozen times, nearly mowed over the cord ten times, and mowed over each section of the lawn thirty two times. It took me over two hours to mow my tiny little suburban lawn. My summer project was to remove ivy from a stand of cedar trees. That project took me six months, and gave the neighbors several George of the Jungle moments and a rare one man Three Stooges impression. My attempt to grow grass has been a whole other kind of funny. Almost a year has gone by since I brought my vaudeville show t the neighborhood, and I haven't let the laughs stop. Today, I watered the flowers and then dropped the house to the ground between my legs. I dropped the nozzle on it's handle, where it stayed spraying me directly in the crotch and soaking every single item of clothes I was wearing. I really think that when I left to change my clothing before embarking on my planned neighborhood stroll with Dipity, I should have left a little cup on the porch. I bet there would have been a few quarters when I came out.