Ramon Maiden



Well, I’m back after a trip out of town, effectively incommunicado for a seven days. I’ve returned to a garden that is carpeted with piddly weeds, a yard that is desperate for mowing and a sky that isn’t content to merely threaten rain. I need to win a lottery and hire a small army of speedy gardeners. And no, I don’t mean hobbits on crack. They just need to get their weed eaters ripping between cloud bursts so as not to get skewered by lightning.

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