Scissors It Is

No grizzly sighting today.  Maybe he has moved on to juicier pastures.  

The latest words of wisdom from Kiel on the manner were, "Ooooooooo...I bet Bear is thinking she smells like popcorn, iced lattes, and good cheese."  

Here's where I admit his musing is fairly accurate.  Add dry roasted, salted almonds and the nail would be hit on the head.  

In other news of the evening, I just finished weed-whacking around the house with a scissor.  It's because I'm a perfectionist, and when I start something it gets all the way done.  It's also because I am stubborn.  It's not because I don't know how to run a weed-whacker.  I grew up on a farm and have spent more hours with a Stihl than I have sharpening pencils.  Changing the string and mixing the gas are on my resume.  Rest assured, use an actual weed-whacker I can.  The reason I chose a scissor this round was because I potentially already broke a water pump early this morning when the sunrise looked like this - the flag blowing in the wind and the pump burning up.  

The thought of ruining two things in one day was too much for this prideful heart to manage.  I should say potentially ruining again here.   

While I was crouched down snip snipping, I thought to myself, as vehicles drove by on the gravel road, please let this look like I'm simply picking weeds out of the landscaping rocks, not that I'm using a scissors to cut the grass around the edging.  That's a reputation one might never live down.  

The verdict is in and a scissors works.  The job is done.  I can rest easy.  

Here's the precise pretty sunset picture I took the other night while the neighbors were shooting in the air and yelling at the grizzly bear.  Aren't you glad that tall(ish) grass around the landscaping edging is now cut?  I know I sure am.    

Sunrise and sunset, you've now been covered for both.