Not exact matches
Putting on the Baby Einstein DVD for the third time before lunch so you can apply some makeup because that cute landscaping guy is due to come by and cut your
grass sometime this afternoon (
just because you don't want to have sex doesn't mean you're
dead).
Just like most of the other Mayfield houses, it's a large white house, but this one is neglected — caked with dirt, surrounded by
dead grass, plus a peculiar tendency to blow gusts of leaves at whoever steps upon their grounds.
First, the brown, churning water - the circle of our river around us; inside that, the quilt squares of our fields, which were turned dirt, newly planted seeds, the bright green carpet of a field
just beginning to come to life, fences mended or falling down into the soft new
grass, humped haystacks, our cattle herd, our sheep herd, our goats, bare birch trees pointing straight into the heavens; and in the center, in the heart, our cobbled and dirt streets, our red - tiled and gray - shingled roofs radiating out from the town square with its statue of a long -
dead war hero in the middle.
Freshly cut
grass with animals chasing each other and tumbling around the yard, wide open front doors with neighbors that
just walk right in and yell that they're stealing your last 3 eggs, and going to bed
dead tired to find out that you already have three stuffed animals tucked in sleeping peacefully on your side of the bed.