Wednesday whispers

• I'm sure that a more sophisticated landscaper than I (that's just about anybody) would  probably tell you that the sweet potato¹ vine craze is declasse.  
• Nonetheless, I'm a fan, since you can put a few cuttings in a glass of water, and they'll have inch long roots in just three or four days.  Someone had cut about a dozen or more vines at church over the weekend, which I picked up and brought home.  Tomorrow, they'll be ready for planting.
• Over the weekend, Daughter caught about a half dozen frogs, a half dozen pollywogs, and some minnows - they're now in  the backyard 'pond' - if the perch and goldfish haven't eaten them.
• Golden Rule/Karma update:  As noted in an earlier post, I emailed the man who backed into my car with the cost of the repairs - $73 - today I received a check from "Eddie" for $100.
• He was thankful he didn't have to get an insurance claim, and that he didn't get skinned by the cost - I was grateful that he was honest.  As a man soweth, so shall he reapeth.
• I took some clothes from the washer up to the laundromat to dry - I was about to load my magnetic card with some more money, when the manager came up and handed me a card that a customer had turned back, with $4 remaining on it.  Thanks, Sheri!
• A gay student in Indianapolis sues his school district for expelling him after he fired a 'stun gun' to scare away other students who were harrassing him.
• I found the story kind of interesting.  Being a 2nd Amendment fan, I support the right of people, gay ones included, to be able to protect themselves.  But, schools have pretty well established rules that such is strictly verboten.  Nonetheless, I was sort of sympathetic to his plight, until I read that the guy was wearing his mother's clothes and accessories to class.
• No, I don't think that makes it okay for the kiddo to be bullied, but, c'mon buttercup, I know the hippies in the sixties marched and chanted and whatnot so that you could "do whatcha wanna do", but you really shoulda figured you'd get your butt kicked.
• Heck, dude, I'd like to wear cowboy clothes - no, not jeans and pearl-snap shirts, but Wah-Maker duckins and suspenders and wild rags and such - to work, complete with my Cimarron Thunderer, holster, bandolero, and spurs.  But if I did that, I'd get my butt booted out the door.  (And then, nice men and women in white coats would ask me lots of questions...)
• Hey, why are these walls padded?
• Hate to break it to your tender little heart, but sometimes you do have to conform.  Get used to it.
• In Get Over It, the Eagles sorta summed it up: "I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little a**."
• Stopped by the supermarket after the laundry.  As I was looking at breakfast bars, a sort of non-descript woman in a Dez Bryant jersey walks by and starts talking to me about the granola bars, quite animatedly, and almost right in my face.
• This is more the type thing I would initiate, rather than be the recipient of.
• As she talked, she seemed somehow to morph from average to kinda cute.  Then her daughter, about the same age as mine, came around the corner of the aisle, and I also caught a glimpse of metal on her left hand.
• Darn.
• We ended up checking out at about the same time, across from one another at the self-check stands, where I looked again to make sure - couldn't totally be sure it was a wedding ring - but wasn't going to ask her in front of her daughter.
• At least I won't be kicking myself for not checking, though.

¹ Potatoe, for Dan Quayle fans.