The Twenty-Minute Blog

Our local library recently underwent a multi-million dollar renovation. Part of that meant an upgrade of computer services. For some computer users now, internet access is timed. You have 20 minutes to do whatever you need to do on-line.

So I thought it would be neat to do a twenty-minute blog. Kinduva cool writing exercise. Blog express! I only have 17 minutes left, but here goes . . .

Uhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmm, guess I could blog about the highlights of my past week. I have this gloriously oversized plant above my desk at work. It's a talking point among my work team members.

Unfortunately, the new growth this year all decided to "go to the light", a fluorescent row of lights next to my cubicle. That created an unbalanced situation and my big plant toppled over onto my desk, burying everything there. My calculator was buried and dead (dead and buried?). It no longer worked. I had to get a new one.

(I have 15 minutes left) . . . Since this plant had been working with me for five years or so through thick and thin, I decided to try a rescue. I re-potted it in a larger pot, with more dirt, then watered it and put in on a bay window sill at home.

Enter Simon, my son's Boston Terrier whom I spoke about earlier when he killed a rabbit and dragged its carcass into our house. My wife and I dog-sat Simon this past weekend, keeping a close eye on him. But not close enough.

"Oh my God." I heard my wife's voice call out from downstairs, waking me up on Sunday morning. Simon had "un-potted" my plant. Again, dirt everywhere--on the window sill, ABOVE the window sill, on the sofa nearby, on the carpet, etc. Bad dog! Bad dog!

(11 minutes left) . . .

I've blogged here recently on my coin-hunting expeditions. I like to look out for the spare dollar or dime lying about. On Saturday, I was riding my bike when I spied a cache of quarters. Six of them strewn about in the middle of a busy intersection, all glistening in the light of the early evening sun.

It took a real-life game of Frogger over the course of several minutes, but I got the quarters. All of them.

So you would think my announcement to the family would bring some congratulatory responses. Not to be. In fact, family members chided me, saying I probably stole some child's ice cream money.

That's speculation, but it has some basis. The intersection is a block away from a Dairy Queen and it was a hot day. A kid could very likely have been hurrying to cross with the light when his handful of quarters slipped from his sweaty palms, rolling out into traffic.

(Seven minutes . . . )

But why guilt me? Do you ever see a reporter ask a mega-million lotto winner, "Sir, do you realize that by winning the lotto, you probably took the dollar of a man who was hoping and praying that he could win the lotto to pay for his life-saving liver transplant?"

No, you don't do you? So why should I feel bad. Kids eat too much ice cream these days anyway.

(Still five minutes; gee I'm quick when I rant) . . .

(Four minutes now . . . )

Let me end with a joke. That Simon who dug up my plant is going through a digging phase of puppyhood. I found a big hole he dug next to a tomato plant. In the hole he had dropped a rock. Not a bone, a chew toy or something like that. A rock!

So here's the joke. What do Simon and George W. Bush have in common. Answer: They both have a plan to save Iraq (a rock).

Well, what do you expect for 20 minutes. I have three minutes left. (two now). Forgive any typos or misspellings.