Ain't Nothing But a Groundhog
OK, I am back again. Last night my wife reminded me that I hadn't posted a blog since early June. I am like the writing equivalent of a cicada. My prose comes out of the ground once every seven years, makes some commotion, then flies away and dies. It doesn't help that she and I are the only ones who read my stuff. It is not like an audience is swooning for more. Hey I have been busy, I'm ADD and I am not fully appreciated for my insight by the masses which makes me feel neglected and resentful, thus sapping my creative juices. It is a terrible cycle and bind...unproductive and unappreciated. Unappreciated and unproductive...and so on and so on. This summer's garden lesson was the battle versus the groundhog species. I lost some battles, won some battles (with the help of my shirtess Rambo bodybuilding neighbor Steve with a 22), and then settled for an uneasy truce/war of attrition of sorts for the rest of the summer. About mid-summer, I noticed that my veggies in