There’s a reason they never arm the writers in movies, Modern Philosophers.
They just let them believe that whole “The pen is mightier than the sword!” idea so that writers don’t go out on the battlefield and injure themselves and then others with friendly fire.
So how in the world did I end up looking like District 13’s tribute in The Hunger Games today as I walked around armed with this scary weapon…
Yes, I was really roaming around with this weapon today without any adult supervision. It is a miracle that I still have all ten fingers to type this post!
Of course, I did not set out expecting to have to fight for my life in the arena armed with an instrument which still has no name as far as I know.
I just wanted to go for a run and mow the lawn. A simple Homeowner’s Biathlon on what turned out to be a gorgeous June day in Maine. The run went well. There were lots of emotional support pace ducks in the river the morning to urge me down the path.
When I returned to The House on the Hill, I sadly discovered that no Good Samaritans had showed up to mow my lawn, so I went to work on it while I was still sweaty from my run.
After the front and back lawns were mowed, I decided that I really should trim the hedges that some annoying previous owner had planted all over the property.
The bushes were out of control because, like all landscaping work around The House on the Hill, I had ignored it because I hated doing it.
But I had purchased a pair of hedge clippers, so I might as well use them. All was well until I realized that some of the branches on one of the front lawn bushes (I don’t know what type of bush it is, so I’ll just refer to it as George W) were getting a little too close to the power lines that ran into the house.
I’m 6’3″, but George W is much taller. I tried jumping to reach those elusive branches, but that didn’t work. I went onto the porch, leaned out as far as I could, and managed to get some of the branches, but George W was just too big and my arms were not long enough.
I contemplated getting a ladder, but I call my domicile The House on the Hill for a reason. It would not have been safe to climb a ladder placed anywhere along the steep incline of the front lawn.
So I mulled this challenge over in my big brain, and came up with what I thought was a fool proof plan to defeat George W.
I fetched the rake from the garage, and used that to hook the high branches and pull them closer. The only problem was, I couldn’t operate the hedge clippers with only one hand.
George W wins again!
But that’s when President Snow got involved and my name was called in the Reaping to represent District 13. I chose that rusty, but sinister weapon from the Cornucopia, and went after those branches like my life depended on it.
Normally, I am not to be trusted with a weapon. My first thought was that I was going to end up snipping the power lines and electrocuting myself, but somehow, the odds were forever in my favor. Not only did I trim those branches on George W, but I also took care of a few on George H, the big bush next to it.
I’m just glad I survived the experience and was able to share it with you.
Until next time, stay strong, Panem!