FYI: The Cubs have the best record in baseball in June for the first time in 100 years.
Meanwhile, did you see the full body shot of Harrison Ford walking on the beach in Cannes with Shia LeBoeuf or whatever the name of his babyfaced co-star is? The guy [FORD] looks seriously buffed out in a Polo shirt and slacks. His pecs are pressing the envelope pretty hard.
Naturally, the youth of America will just think he doesn't look bad for an old guy. But women over a certain age, like say, moi, will consider dusting off their last remaining pair of Pucci panties and give serious thought to donating to the Brazilian economy for a million to one shot at an Indiana Jones throwdown. [I sure hope someone gets my little stab at hygiene humor.]
Frankly I think Harry is looking better than Shia, who not only has a name that sounds vaguely like a skin disease, but appears as though nobody has broken him in properly yet.
But this entry isn't about Calista Flockhart's freaking good fortune. Au contraire. My front yard grass -- and I'm talking about actual FRONT YARD GRASS, by the way -- was getting long enough to make me worry about a possible wellness check by the local cops and robbers. So I called one of the ten or so companies that left their flyers hanging on my door this spring to ask them to bring their machines around for a harvest.
I decided against last year's crew because I got charged $25 per hour per man for work that only took ten minutes a visit. I would have been willing to pay that amount if they'd actually spent a whole hour on my yard.
This time I chose a company based on the quality of their advertising piece. It was printed in a tasteful Martha Stewart green on nice white card stock. They offered lots of services. Nothing was misspelled. Their name -- something like Jan and Steve's Lawncare -- sounded like I could communicate with them in English.
So I called. And got Esmeralda, Javier's wife. I am not sure who Steve is. It took awhile for her to understand that I wanted an estimate for things like cleaning the gutters, planting the beds, fertilizing and other stuff. BUT, I would pay them at their going rate, whatever it was, to cut the grass ASAP without an estimate. I know, when the bill for $500 arrives, I may feel differently.
Because we were in an English to Spanish to English nightmare, she didn't understand. Shekept wanting to send a guy over to give me an estimate first, then come back in a week to do the job. She finally got my gist -- cut the grass AND give me the estimate all at once -- when I pointed out the savings in gas if they only had to make one trip.
The grass has been cut. I can tell they use nice sharp blades. Dull blades make the grass tops brown. But, instead of cultivating the beds to get rid of weeds, they used their wackers to chop them to the ground -- a quick, but temporary fix, and not as esthetically pleasing as turning the dirt.
Now I have to take a gander at how much it cost. You'll be the second to know. Once I recover from the shock.