Extreme Sports of SD

White Water Rafting – Try to stay in the boat. Wear a helmet in case of crashes.

Snowboarding – Take skiing lessons first. Wear a helmet in case of crashes.

Skydiving – Jump from a plane. Remember to pull your cord. Wear a helmet in case of crashes.

Ect. Ect. Ect…….

Gardening – The only sport where killing, maiming, squishing and karate chopping are allowed! They say it is relaxing! Wear a helmet in case of flying dirt clunks.

Last night we decided to do some planting (I didn’t, Mom did.). So, we trudged out to the garden with our onions, beats, radishes, turnips (all of which I think are gross) and carrots (which I like). We also had a bowl of flower seeds. We’d spent the last half an hour tearing open flower seed packets and dumping them together. How many are you thinking? Fifteen packages? No. Something more along the lines of a hundred. How many seeds are you thinking? A cereal bowl full? No. More like an eighth of a bowl full. Don’t worry, I couldn’t believe it either! Those packages only have about ten seeds apiece.

So we planted these seeds and then decided to explore the many bushes lining our fence. Most of which are berry. This year, to our complete surprise, there are flowers on these bushes! I’d given them up to dead. But no, obviously SD bushes are stubborn, too.

Mom was very impressed with one of dead apple trees (yes, we’re rough on plants but the winters up here don’t help) which was now coming back from the bottom. Around the end of this adventure Missy exclaimed, “Who ever said a green thumb marked a farmer? I say it’s a black pinky.” We both stared at our black pinkies. Of course, she was right. To make the lines for the seeds you use the side of your hand with your pinky and by the end of such a process you have a black pinky. I must be twice the farmer since both of mine were black! (Or, since I’m double handed, I just switched hands without thinking.)

Well, it wasn’t a bad night but since Missy was bugging me about writing more of my book (since she reads along she often has to wait for me to feel like writing and it bugs her), I did. By then, it was an hour past my bed time (10:00) and I was exhausted, so I left.

In fifteen minutes Mom wants to be woken up, according to this note, so I’d better go.

Yours truly,

Mandy