GOD AND ST. FRANCIS DISCUSSING LAWNS

GOD: Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.

GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?

ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS: No Sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD: Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS: Yes, Sir.

GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

ST. FRANCIS: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD: And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD: Enough. I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have they scheduled for us tonight?"

ST. CATHERINE: "Dumb and Dumber", Lord. It's a really stupid movie about.....

GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

Unknown Author

Joy in a Small World

My nosiness can often be so rewarding! Last week a conversation with a colleague of seven years led me to be curious when she mentioned working in television years ago. In wondering what she had worked on it transpired that she knows my sister as she also worked and in incidentally still works in tv. Not only did she know her, they were 'besties' but over the years had lost touch. It turns out that they went on holiday together. I remember this well as my sister had a nasty accident, was injured quite badly and spent most of the holiday in hospital. Our family were so grateful to the friend (my now colleague) as she looked after my sis and brought her home safe. My colleague and I arranged a surprise meeting over coffee this week as my sister is up for a couple of weeks over Christmas. My sister's face was a picture, she was shocked beyond belief and they started chattering as though the last 13 years had not existed. My colleague described it as being the best Christmas gift and my sister was totally overjoyed. My curiosity needs a pat on the back.

No to Negativity

That's my gift. I let that negativity roll off me like water off a duck's back. If it's not positive, I didn't hear it. If you can overcome that, fights are easy.
                                           George Foreman

Well saying 'No' to Negativity seemed to work well for George.

Seems to me as we are in control of our own destiny, negativity is not going to be a part of mine. Think positively, behave positively and exude positivity and I reckon I can't go far wrong.

Negativity breeds negativity so stands to reason that the opposite also works in the same way.

Good lesson learnt today.

Being Curious

This week I was re-introduced to the word Curious. According to the dictionary it can either mean being something strange or unusual or it can mean being eager to learn. I have affinity with both of these definitions.
 I am reading the book 'A Curious Mind' by David Grazier (recommended to me by a friend and colleague Sid Madge) who produced films such as Apollo 13, A Beautiful Mind, Backdraft, Parenthood, The Nutty Professor. I this book he describes how by having curious conversations with people to the point where he plans one every week he has been able to learn about the lives of people who he would never normally come across. By doing this he has been able to build up a wealth of information that helps in storytelling and producing his movies.

I am naturally a nosey person, however Brian has inspired me to be more purposefully curious. Soooo I am going to blog what I am being curious about mostly for my own records but also because I want to share what I have learnt.