The nice thing about living in the Southeast is the milder weather. Case in point: yesterday I weed wacked my big yard. As I listened to the buzz-brrr of my machine, I took stock of my yard.
The weed to grass ratio was, well, embarrassing. Weed killer would reduce my yard to Oklahoma during the 1930’s Dust Bowl!
And then there are the moles in the back. They’ve built a tunnel system that rivals London’s Tube.
A wealthy man would pay to have someone fix it. A zealous “green-thumber” would roll up his sleeves and dive in. Seeing I’m neither, I have to either declare all out war or start singing “Let it Be.”
Of course, there’s another solution. I could unleash my dachshund on the moles (since they’re bred to hunt badgers) and force my kids into slave labor for the next 6 months. I would “manage” from the shade, sipping mint juleps and serenading them with, “Let it Be.”
I've played bass for Shania Twain, had a black rhino charge me while on safari, and I've been in the Oval Office. In high school, I went backstage to interview groups like Bob Seger, Rush and Kansas, sorta like "Almost Famous" but without Kate Hudson! As an author, I draw from all these experiences (and then some) when crafting my stories. The quote that sums me up the best is by G.K. Chesterton: "Nay, the really sane man know that he has a touch of the madman."
I'm married, the father of four wonderful children, and a proud grandfather. I currently live near Nashville, TN where I write, bike and am always on the prowl for adventure and stories.