Beautiful day today here in Ohio.  Haze-filtered sun.  A temperature in the mid 70s Fahrenheit (about 23 degrees Celsius).  Light breezes, punctuated by occasional flocks of robins and ladybugs.  Large white toadstools clearly visible in the grass,  luxuriating in almost the perfect weather....
     At least they were visible before I ran them over with my mower in what I hope will be the last time I have to cut the grass for months.  It's always more work than I expect.  First, I have to worry about accidentally cutting off a foot.  Then I have to actually mow - an arduous process during which I have to constantly remember not to cut off a foot.  Finally, I have to return my mower to the garage and then find someplace to sit and marvel over my not having cut off a foot. 
     This is how one two-hour mowing comes to pretty much kill the day....

     Today was no ordinary day, however.  Today was the day we also decided to cut down the spent lilies and phlox, pull up the white begonias, plant some hyacinth bulbs, stow the garden hoses, and then carry the patio table, umbrella, and chairs to the garage.  It being Sweetest Day, I even helped with most of these things despite the added danger this presented to my feet. 
     I realize that some might think that stowing hoses with your spouse isn't a very romantic way to spend Sweetest Day, but it must be remembered that we stowed those hoses with the memory of the flowers I sent my wife yesterday right there in our minds.  I could've waited until today, and maybe even conned the delivery person into stowing our hoses for us if I had and he or she had arrived at just the right moment, but I did not.  Instead, I had the flowers sent to my wife at work yesterday so they'd be more of a surprise, so she'd be able to enjoy them sooner, and so I could imagine her co-workers turning green with envy.  Hey - I'm entitled to a wee bit of fun too, aren't I?
     An informed person might say, "But Dan - didn't you have all the fun you're entitled to for one week on Thursday when you gave Amy the gourd?"  Just one more reason why I enjoy writing for what I imagine to be uninformed people.  But yes, I did indeed have fun leaving a gourd on Amy's car seat Wednesday night so that she'd find it Thursday when she left for work.  What fun is that?  You're so damn informed, you tell me.
     "Amy had her semi-annual dental appointment scheduled for Thursday.  Her dentist's office called on Wednesday to confirm her appointment, and you took the call.  When she got home, you told her that they'd called.  You also told her that they had said that if she brought in a gourd for the gourd-less children of Costa Rica, they'd give her $5 off her cleaning.  After she expressed a bit of skepticism, you thought you'd better place a gourd in her car after she went to bed just to increase the chances of her actually taking it to her dentist's office the next day.  You even attached a note to it: 'The poor children of Costa Rica need me!'  This enabled you to giggle all day Thursday over the prospect of her actually walking up to the receptionist with a gourd in her hand and asking for her $5 discount."
     Smarty-pants.  And did she take the gourd in?
     "Of course not.  She has a master's degree." 
     Indeed.  So you see, I didn't quite get a full week's of fun out of that gourd and therefore I was more than entitled to imagine her co-workers turning green with envy over her Friday flowers.
     "Why don't you just get drunk once in a while like everyone else?"
     Because most drinks simply aren't sweet enough for me.  Beer, for example, is far too yeasty, while I'm afraid of Southern Comfort ever since I read that it's what killed Janis Joplin.  If nothing else, it may have made her the great blues singer she was, and I have no desire whatsoever to wake up some morning in a pool of my own fame. 
     I did, however, take a break from mowing this afternoon to go to the mall and take the Sweetest Day challenge despite the sour taste this has left in my mind in the past.

     Going to the mall while all dirty and sweaty from work has been a tradition for us ever since we had a potty-less plot in a community garden in Dayton.  Today the makers of Sweetest Day just happen to have had a "Take The Sweetest Day Challenge" booth set up in the main concourse. 
     "Come on, Sir.  What have you got to lose?  Just sample these few unmarked days and if our Sweetest Day isn't the sweetest thing you've ever tasted, we'll gladly extend your lifespan by an extra week."
     Unable as always to pass up an impossibly good offer, I ambled over and slurped loudly from the long line of cups awaiting me, one right after the other.
     "This is the sweetest, " I declared, pointing at a sample with so much glucose, it had to stash half of it in an empty storefront next to Sears.
     "That would be Halloween," the person behind the counter told me.  "Try again."
     "This was the next sweetest," I revealed, nodding towards the second cup from the left that was attracting yellow jackets.
     "Umm, that would be Christmas," the person behind the counter muttered after double-checking the hidden label.  "Try again."
     "This one with the lipstick on the edge was third.  That one with the cigarette butt floating in it was  fourth.  And the one leaking sawdust was fifth."
     "That would be Valentine's Day...  The first day of summer...  And Arbor Day!"
     "I've always been a tree hugger - and on occasion even a French kisser," I explained confidentially in a way I thought presented little risk to my feet.
     Suffice it to say that before I left the mall to return to my mowing, I'd extended my life by no less than a full three years.
     I can only hope that the day went half as well for the gourd-less children of Costa Rica....