DH has been after me to do something about it.  "It" being all the fruit. Papaya, strawberry guava, lilikoi (passionfruit),guava, pineapple, citrus, jaboticoba, banana.

It's falling and making a mess all over the lawn. We can't keep up with it, and like tomato and zucchini time in the midwest, friends avoid us when they see us carrying bags of the surplus.

"Why don't you make some wine?" he asked.

The "thing" being my fancy new...only 3 month old....smart Palm Pre Plus phone.

It was resting quietly on its charging dock downstairs.  It rang once, and I went down to see what call I had missed. Numbers were spontaneously dialing and then disconnecting.....screens were opening and then closing again.  It went into airplane mode, and the screen would not respond to my touch.  It was having seizures....

I removed the battery and rebooted.  The touchscreen remained unresponsive.

I've always loved words.

Long ones: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, antidisestablishmentarianism.....

Beautiful ones: serendipity, murmur

Difficult to pronounce:  hierarchical, entrepreneurial

I admire those writers who use words creatively, or who can create words that make perfect sense to us:  ee cummings, Dr. Seuss and J.R.R. Tolkein.

Not us, of course. I'm talking about our neighbors, the cows.

The "next door" property is 20 acres of fenced land covered with cane grass. The owner leases the land to a rancher for pasture.  Cane grass is thick, clumped and grows to eight feet tall, but when mowed, becomes a nice lawn.

I first started doing it when i was seventeen. Church services on  Wednesday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night. Later, in a bar 5 or 6 nights a week.

Years of weekend gigs and weddings at the Elks, or Moose...or VFW halls. 

Followed by years of leading a church band. And filling in for the "real" church organist for vacation and weekends off.

So after 40.....yes, forty!....years of playing the organ in various venues, why do I STILL have nightmares about it when I substitute for the church organist.