A small village

On December 26, 2016 I officially started this blog. The intention was to prove that there was humorous side to mental and physical anguish. Not an easy task, but I like a challenge. Last night I realized that I’m steadily growing in followers, nothing dramatic but impressive to me considering I don’t advertise.

It reminded me of a saying- If you make one person happy every day in five years you would have brighten up a small village.

Thank you for being my village.

Dante’s Infernal

When we moved into our new five-plus acres, we were informed that the area of grass surrounding our home – that takes 2 hours to mow with a self-propelled mower – was too much for the garbage can. So the past owners had been dumping it between the fenced yard and horse pasture in a place we like to call the alley.

This did not bother us – we added to the pile ourselves. Once in a while, we would allow our goats to graze on it, but it had finally gone beyond what we could control, so my husband decided to burn it. Bad call on our part.

Even after four days of turning and drenching the pile, it lived on. Smoke smoldering out – filling the house with unhealthy air,  causing my asthma to flair up – Dante’s infernal spewed taunts at us mere mortals who had tried to put it out, but on day five he settled down to a festering torment that lasted another nine days.

Lesson learned from this – don’t burn green grass piles in the summer wait till it’s cold and it will be useful.