My parents just moved onto some land out in the country. They have horses, and want their horses to finally be able to share their address.
Of course, no land is perfect, though, and their couple acres need to be cleaned up a bit before the horses can move in. My oldest brother, Jonathan, is here this week, helping to clear out some of the woody parts of the property.
|This is the view from their back fence. |
We've had so much rain here lately, this isn't normally a pond.
But you get the idea. Trees, vines, mud, muck.
So of course I decided to help.
And of course we needed to talk zombies while we worked, and of course we now consider ourselves ready for the apocalypse!
|Everybody, meet Jonathan.|
He's killer with a chainsaw.
|Me? I prefer this knife.|
I think the hook on the end gives it that little something special.
Don't you agree?
Anyway, much as I joke (and much as I LOVE that knife), every time I do something like this I realize more and more: I'd never survive a real zombie apocalypse. It wouldn't be the zombies to get me, though. It would be the bugs. The ticks in particular. And the fact that, with my insomnia and compulsive need to feel clean at night, I'd never sleep and I'd go absolutely insane.
And incidentally: today I also learned I have an irrational fear of chainsaws. *shakes fist at Texas Chainsaw Massacre*
Happy Tuesday and I hope I made you smile.