the things we do for each other.

Last night, I found myself outside holding a flashlight and a machete while Man, armed with a shovel, began to dig a hole.

At first, all I could think was that this Man of mind certainly takes after Old Man.  Like father, oh how, like son.  They both do their own thing their own way.  Completely ignorant to what others' might think.

I know this because my other thoughts were along the line of: What must the neighbors think?  Oh, please say that lady--yea, the one who immediately closed the drapes when she caught catching her watching us--did not just call the cops.


I have mixed feelings about the lack of sirens.  Maybe it was so obvious because we were making so much noise.  All the same, I feel a little uncertain as to the outcome should any serious wrong-doing occur.  Welcome to West Philly, folks.

And in case you are wondering, there are no buried bodies--just empty bottles.  The mosquitoes have been after Man in droves, so to escape their machinations, Man decided that he wanted to work on garden stuff after night fall.  Hence last night's revelry.  We planted plastic soda bottles to serve as an irrigation system for the poor sunflowers that are struggling to take root.