I'll take "Random Thoughts" for $1000, Alec

• Yesterday a client told me she loves to fart. Not that she was going to do it right that second or anything, but, and I quote, "Oh, the Joy!" Somehow this was an entertaining, enjoyable conversation as opposed to the one I mentioned a few weeks ago about the guy with a case of The Gas wicked bad.
  
• Get your lawn mower fixed before the middle of May. Otherwise, the next thing you know the small engine repair people are holding it hostage while your lawn turns into a hay field.
• However, if you want to be wowed by the profusion of tiny wildflowers in your lawn, don't fix the mower early. That brings me to point four:
• When you become a homeowner you have to decide what lawn care personality type you are. Type A, Type B, or Type I don't friggin' care. Our next door neighbors fall into the Type A lawn care category. Once the snow melts Joe & Lynn become ground keeping super heroes Mow & Lawn. Chip and I, on the other hand, are a terrible disappointment to the neighborhood.
  
• Some days when I observe people I am only able to see their potential for evil, ugliness and despair. That is a very hopeless feeling. Today is a day like that. I don't like it.
• I talked to a bumble bee tonight. It wouldn't let me rescue it from in between the screen and the glass. I tried. It buzzed around desperately searching for a bee sized exit with no luck. I observed the very tips of its articulated legs grip and shake the cross hairs of the screen like the hands of a convict. Finally, I gave up the rescue. During the whole process I kept up a one-sided discussion with the creature. I coaxed, I harangued, I threatened. I gave up. Now it's just dead-still up in the corner where I can't get to it. Maybe it doesn't want to be rescued. Maybe its a sick bee that shouldn't return to the wild. Maybe if I'd "saved" it there would have been a mass spreading of some evil bee disease. The bumble bee is really big and its dead body will need to be thrown away in a couple days.
  
• Speaking of dead bodies, today's obituaries listed a handful of graveside services for dead people who've been in the deep freeze all winter until their burial plot thawed and the cemetery ground can hold a back-hoe. Ick, that's gross. Grandpa in the freezer. Spouse on the rocks. Planted in the spring like reverse seeds.