I am using an old book to do a Space Log Blog and Spiritual Blog with Chris Breva.
My father was a bear above his lawn. My son was three and we ran around the house. My father yelled we were going to kill his grass. He mowed, seeded and fertilized it all the time along with his garden. He would grow tomatoes and zucchini and tried to find people to give them to and asked why I didn't want any. I had no use for them. I hate tomatoes. My father's lawn. Stay on the pavement. I felt like I was walking on eggs when I visited him in the summer. Weeds. He had a weed whacker and they got whacked. He acted like that lawn was gold. I guess, to each his own. Me. I like playing with dandelions. The Catholic College I went to, the Nuns would take trash bags and collect dandelions for dandelion wine. I just like blowing dandelions around. It was a weed I liked.