Nothing yesterday did I.
Except mow the lawn and hack a hole in the hedge to dump yard waste through.
In doing so I inadvertantly visited the eerie, mysterious "other side" when I fell over the edge due to misjudging the load bearing capabilities of the seemingly solid path before me into the impenetrable morass of weed and stem, leaf and stump.
Fortunately, I held on to my hedge trimmer when I fell off the edge of my world of comfort and privilege into the teeming, steaming jungle.
One must never go boldly (or even accidentally) into an adventure without a way to defend oneself against the native populace.
I wandered for awhile in the inhospitable greenery, seeking the door that I had so impetuously created, that I might escape this (inadvertently) self imposed exile.
Would I ever see family and friends again?
Suddenly I was beset by strange, many legged beasts and multi-jawed fanged insects. And a rat.
Raising my weapon, I was dismayed to find that I had inadvertently pulled the plug in the fall.
(Not fall the season, for it is still summer, but the fall into this weedy hell.)
I was defenseless.
Not even saying that I had voted for Al Gore seemed to allay the wrath of this insensate,intractable and uncaring verdant wilderness.
Nothing to do but run.
After weeks of aimless wandering, I finally re-discovered the portal I had created and staggered bruised, bleeding and bushed.
Haw! bushed get it?
Anyway, besides the collection of scraps and scabs, the only thing I brought back from this wilderness sojourn was a case of mylaria,
(not the same as MAlaria but treatable with quinine just the same).
A perfect excuse for a large dose of gin and tonic.
Or two or three.
Excuse me, I hear the Banshee wail of the turbine powered race boat.
I must investigate.
Wish me luck.