A Prize In Every Box

This is a place for the random musings and life experiences of one Fliven, who looks for life's fun little surprises, even when its in a giant box of stale, tasteless foodstuffs.

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Location: Sugar Hill, GA, United States

The details of my life remain shrouded in mystery.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Bacony Goodness

I just ate a chocolate bacon bar. It was quite tasty, actually. Imagine a chocolate bar with toffee bits in it...then make those toffee bits salt-flavored instead of toffee-flavored. Yum!

This week I have begun the annual battle with nature. Let the games begin! I have laid down chemical defenses against ants, done the same for weeds in the lawn (ah, I love the smell of chemical warfare at dusk), and have procured some new offensive weaponry…an edger, with which to delineate the borders and keep chaos in check. Next will be a new spigot for the back of the house, so as to have hydro-attack capabilities. After that, seeding, dirt, and the attempted bending of nature to my will; i.e., making it grow MY plants. A daunting task, indeed. Then begins the next wave in the neverending struggle against the pine trees in all their nastiness. They MUST be brought under control, for the good of the land.

Yesterday, there were like, 50 vultures circling lazily around our little neighborhood...and nothing dead, as far as I know. I know a bunch of them nest on a hilltop nearby, and wonder if the proximity to the area's landfill, or land glut rather, as it is now the size of a small mountain, is the cause of this. And they are BIG scary birds, too. Note to me: buy some sort of projectile weapon, such as a roof-mounted ballista, with which to defend from aerial scavenger birds out to steal my small puppy.

Things are slow at work right now...we're in a lull between the beginning-of-the-year rush and the end-of-the-school-year rush. There'll still be things coming in, but it won't be late nights or whatever.

I'm already looking forward to our vacation in July, as well! Should be a lot of fun. Going to Hilton Head on the shore. Have a nice house rented, and are brining the dog. We are DYING to see how she likes the beach.

Yesterday I had 'Three Little Birds' stuck in my head all morning. There are very few things more weird in appearance than a super-quiet extremely white person walking down an office hallway singing reggae. But since I'm supposed to "don't worry, about a t'ing", I don't much care. Plus its a good song, am I right?

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