Everybody knows things are changing. But let’s not muddy the money with facts.
“No. I can’t do that, I don’t have a license. You’ll have to hire someone who can spray RoundUp and kill all the grass first.” I was soft pedaling my bicycle around my neighbor’s corner property and overheard her fence contractor. “But I can come in and remove all the dead sod for sure.” He takes the pulpit preaching killing things with cancer growing spray to plant things that can’t grow well in Florida.
I was about to tip into a 2 minute sprint eastward. I listened until his sod sales pitch was lost in the wind. Then shifted quick into standup pedaling. Two minutes of Zone 3. Cycling for distance today with a few zone sprints.
I dipped into another right hand turn after the sprint to head back to the neighbor’s. Wondering if there was more to hear on the Word of Sod from Pastor Fence.
I coast by and waved to my neighbor to get her attention and hollered, “Hey! Illeane, text me later, okay?” Pastor Fence preached over the cycling heathen.
Illeane waved and hollered back, “Sure thing, Kath!” Pastor Fence preached over his singular congregation.
Twenty miles and one lunch later her text arrives. “The fence is done! OMG it’s so big I could have livestock. Did you need me to come over?”
