Ken Vickers
Decision Time
For the last two weeks my dogs have been keeping me up way too much at night. They seemed to always start barking at something along about midnight and continue at intervals until around six. Then I discovered that a herd of deer had made the mistake of slipping into my yard every night to eat pears and acorns and this is what had the dogs upset.
I have removed a screen, charged my spotlight, zeroed my rifle, and I am ready for deer season to open at any moment, that is, if I feel like field dressing a deer at two in the morning. Once upon a time this would not have been in the equation, nor would I be worried about waking up the whole house with a blast from my rifle. Things have changed, however, in that my wife does not take kindly to being awakened in the wee hours unless there is an emergency. Of course, in my opinion, some fresh deer steak when one is steakless is an emergency. Question is, do I dare risk my wife’s ire and shoot a deer out the dining room window or wait and go hunting in the woods where I will have to use nine dollar corn to bait them up. It’s decision time.
As I am pondering this dilemma, there is a disaster in the making right outside my bedroom window. The cutworms are destroying my Georgia collards one plant after another. I have put every kind of poison on earth on and around the plants in a thus far futile effort to kill the cutworms and stave off starvation this winter because if a man ain’t got frosted collards, he ain’t got much in the way of greens in my opinion. Of course, with so many different chemicals in and on the collards now, I am almost afraid to eat them. As a last resort I may have to use the DDT I have left over from decades ago but if the EPA were to get wind of it they would probably declare my collard patch a toxic waste site. But it’s either that or let the cutworms have this precious commodity and if I have to starve I want the cutworms to starve right along with me. It’s decision time.
I was pouring up this year’s vintage of Blue Lake grape wine just as the TV said how folks Blackberries had stopped working and there was panic in the streets. Thank Almighty God that the only blackberry I am worried about is the one I make wine and jelly out of each May. That is one decision that is preordained and is really no decision at all.
Anyway, in the complicated process of starting the siphon hose in the wine jug I accidentally swallowed three or four mouthfuls, and just to show you how my secret formula wine can affect the weak minded and wayward among us, in only minutes my head started swimming and a devious plot began to form in my brain. I know the new outfit I ordered from Victoria’s Secret will soon arrive and I know that my wife loves my homemade wine. I also know how it affects her. In my mind I can see new wine, a somewhat provocative new outfit, a beautiful woman, firelight, candles, incense, and me. Lord Jesus, this is gonna be special!
Yep, I’m going to have me a firelight Victoria’s Secret fashion show and wine tasting and my wife, Miss Texas, will have a decision of her own to make. I already have my mind made up.
Ain’t life grand when the decisions are this easy?
As I am pondering this dilemma, there is a disaster in the making right outside my bedroom window. The cutworms are destroying my Georgia collards one plant after another. I have put every kind of poison on earth on and around the plants in a thus far futile effort to kill the cutworms and stave off starvation this winter because if a man ain’t got frosted collards, he ain’t got much in the way of greens in my opinion. Of course, with so many different chemicals in and on the collards now, I am almost afraid to eat them. As a last resort I may have to use the DDT I have left over from decades ago but if the EPA were to get wind of it they would probably declare my collard patch a toxic waste site. But it’s either that or let the cutworms have this precious commodity and if I have to starve I want the cutworms to starve right along with me. It’s decision time.
I was pouring up this year’s vintage of Blue Lake grape wine just as the TV said how folks Blackberries had stopped working and there was panic in the streets. Thank Almighty God that the only blackberry I am worried about is the one I make wine and jelly out of each May. That is one decision that is preordained and is really no decision at all.
Anyway, in the complicated process of starting the siphon hose in the wine jug I accidentally swallowed three or four mouthfuls, and just to show you how my secret formula wine can affect the weak minded and wayward among us, in only minutes my head started swimming and a devious plot began to form in my brain. I know the new outfit I ordered from Victoria’s Secret will soon arrive and I know that my wife loves my homemade wine. I also know how it affects her. In my mind I can see new wine, a somewhat provocative new outfit, a beautiful woman, firelight, candles, incense, and me. Lord Jesus, this is gonna be special!
Yep, I’m going to have me a firelight Victoria’s Secret fashion show and wine tasting and my wife, Miss Texas, will have a decision of her own to make. I already have my mind made up.
Ain’t life grand when the decisions are this easy?
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