I Used to Be Angry Every Day, Then Every Other Day, Now Only Every Third Or Fourth Day. . . Today Is The Day I Am Angry.

I'd like to start out by mentioning [once again] the husband has the uncanny ability to be right most of the time. So, for the past year, let it be known that the husband was once again uncannily correct.

The husband and I have decided to build a fence, in our Longhorn city, around the entire yard - not just the back as is our current situation. The husband has mentioned wanting to "fortress our home" to me more than once throughout the year we have lived here. He wanted a fence. He wanted to keep people out. He wanted safety. He wanted quiet. He wanted seclusion. I objected. Strongly objected, if you will. I wanted beauty. I wanted openness. I wanted a friendly place where all were welcomed. I wanted a pretty yard that everyone could enjoy including us. I have spent a lot of time in our front yard trying to make pretty this spring and summer. The husband, on occasion, has joined me in this effort. The front yard was turning around nicely, so much so, that the former owners of our house left us a note to tell us that they "love what we are doing to the yard!" Yes, with an exclamation point! Which we all know means something more than just something if you put an exclamation point at the end.

The point is that our front yard does look decent and if given a few years it will look fabulous, if I do say so myself. I've always wanted a yard with gardens and lots and lots of flowers as well as shiny pretty things. I was on my way to attaining that dream . . . .

Now want an 8-foot fence. Immediately. With crushed glass and barbed wire decorating the top ever so nicely. I want it to look nasty and in turn make our house look like a prison yard. I. Don't. Care. I want it as high and as deathly as humanely possible.

You see, some b*st*rd low-life cretin stole my hanging planters off of my double-shepherds hook not even 10-yards from our front door sometime between Monday and today. I only had them for two-weeks before they were swiped. They were beautiful with pink, red and white impatients adorning the wire English baskets. Each of the planters were worth just over $50.00. (Yeah. I paid a lot of money for those flowers & baskets, I wanted the front door to look nice.) So the thief made off pretty well. They weren't light either since they were big and weighed between 15-20 pounds each. I hope the sniveling-weenie pulled a muscle in each their fingers. Or the wet-smelly dirt spilled all over their vehicles and it won't come up. Or the plants died during transfer. Or they got worms. Karma has it's way of coming around and we all know you don't mess with karma. Just ask, Earl Hickey.

Yeah. I'm bitter. And not too pleased. I want a fence. I seriously cannot believe that someone drove up in our circle drive and stole our flowers. Who does that? And why? And, why us? Do you know how many people have yard art in their lawns, but ours was the only one hit? Why? For God's sake, they're flowers. Go grow your own. The husband is surprised that I am surprised, but I so firmly believe in "do unto others as you would have done unto you" that I think the world is a genuinely good place. Or has good intentions. But as I am becoming old and decrepit I am finding that it may be I who is warped. People aren't always good. And many only care about themselves. It's a sad state of affairs when someone steals your flowers.

Shame on you, you sniveling-snot-nosed-cold-hearted-rat-coward-ugly-jerk-face-piece-of-poo- weenie! In the end it is you who has to face the Reaper.

So, I leave you now, because I must go grab my front-yard tree hanging basket, my plant stool as well as its potted flowers from underneath my empty shepherds hook and move it to our fenced-in backyard. Come to think of it, I should pull up the shepherds hook too. . . . The low-life petty thieves could be back for more - I guess you just never know.

In the end, it'll be me with the last laugh. And a fence.

To use the words of Joy Turner, "Karma this, you dummy!"