Trees, bird baths and running!

Gracie get's toes done!

We had a Hickory tree in the back yard that was so close to death, that I made the call and called it dead. Now when your renting a home, you sign all this lovely paperwork saying you won't cut this down and you won't tear that up or it will cost you X amount of money that will come out of the deposit that your not going to see anyway. The cool part of never seeing that deposit again is you get to call and say words like "The dead Hickory tree thats right next to the porch, well if the rain doesn't stop falling and the wind doesn't stop blowing, that thing might fall on the house...I'm just saying...I wanted you to have a heads up before it happened." Low and behold, they came out last week and took that dead bad boy down yet, in the process, they took out my bird bath. That's right, out of the whole back yard they picked the spot where my bird bath was to bring the tree down. Preacher man told them, "Don't let too much time pass before you get that replaced." Well, here's the deal, if I don't know something about it today, I'm going and buying me a new one! The Robins are standing on the back fence, yelling at me! I will not put up with this kid of abuse when it wasn't even my fault! I think Preacher man is going to call them today for me so I don't have to tell them about the moles that are moving to another part of the yard and how if they would open up the canopy I would be able to grow some grass. Awe, the joy's of renting...However, this time next year we will not be stressing over trying to sell a house as we prepare for another appointment.
I'm going to give running another chance...I don't even know if that sounds right. I have come to the conclusion that what I'm doing right now is not making me feel, look or act better than when I was running back in Kentucky. Short of moving back to the Holy City, I need to do something, so I guess I'm going to start with running. I was going to take a Treadmill off one of the ladies of the churches hands but she told me on Saturday that it wasn't running. "If Preacher man would look at it, he might be able to get it working." The important word there being might, and Preacher man don't want to move the stupid thing. So the easiest and best thing for me to do is get my butt back on the street. It's been since January people! When you hear me yelling as my feet hit the asphalt, just think it could be worse. I could make you go with me!