day 6 of i miss my car: taking it out on the yard

I was scheduled for luncheon at Funky Brunch with a new meetup group, but that was made null and void by the jerk in the behemoth pick-up truck.

Damn.

As I could not vent my anger at that faceless, cowardly, bully driving that vehicle, I turned to the trees in my back yard.

Those always need pruning, and I have found that hard physical labor is great for loss adjustment, as well as misplaced rage.

I think this image from a former student pretty well captured my mood on this sixth day of no wheels.

Ian Z had drawn it to demonstrate his understanding of the difference between precision and accuracy, in response to a Lab Final Exam question.

As shown, the "intended target" for the gun is the bullseye, so his aim cannot be said to be "accurate"; however, as all three bullets made a tight pattern in the chest of the rude neighbor who never cleans up after a pooping dog, his aim certainly was "precise".

He definitely made me laugh with that one!

I laughed again when I found it in a stack of old comment sheets this morning.

(smile!) 

Sometime soon, I'll commit those comments to this sandy beach, but not right now.

The weather has cooled considerably this week, even going to the 60's at night.

I've spent most of this 'evening at home' in the back yard.

That scrub oak by the bird bath?

Branches sawed off all the way around, dropping it to half its height.

That scrub oak to the left of the shed door?

Its 2-inch diameter trunk was set upon by my hand saw until the top toppled.

Those horrid overgrown red-tip trees along the back?

Limbs sliced and torn until the wood of the popsicle fence could be seen.

Then, I hauled most of that hot mess to the front yard and stacked it by the curb.

There it shall wait until next Wednesday, when the city hauls it off.

Good.

Meanwhile, I can look at those four piles and feel a sense of accomplishment.

That's good, too.