Legend has it that kudzu was brought to the South from Japan or somewhere to prevent soil erosion. Well, guess what? It worked. Now you see kudzu all over the sides of highways and dirt roads in Alabama, Georgia, and any other state which breeds mosquitoes in Biblical proportions.
Not that there is a connection between kudzu and mosquitoes.
At least, I don't think there is.
Kudzu spreads like a bad strain of pinkeye (not sure if there is a good strain of pinkeye.) It covers anything remotely stationary, killing or ruining it. Bridges, trees, roadsides, really slow moving old people.
Where was I?
I'm not dead. I'm here. I'm alive. What started out as writer's block ended up turning into an unintended bloggy break. Several of you emailed me to see if I was doing alright. I appreciate that. I even had some family and friends ask me if I'm OK. Yes, ma'am. I am.
Since I last posted, the following has happened.
Our dog Jessie was ill, well again, ill again, then well. Now she is a perfectly "normal" growing pup who likes to eat bugs and smells like dog exactly 5 seconds after her bath.
I turned 40. The Big One, Elizabeth. Other than the bad food at Red Lobster, it was uneventful.
I am growing out my bangs.
So, as you can see, you haven't missed much. However, I do pledge to keep on keeping on producing the same ole' drudgery about living in SmallTown and how much I miss Starbucks.
Like kudzu, I'm still around.
However, I promise not to choke out all of your evergreens. Or your Great Uncle Cleetus.