Gone Fishin' By David Clinton Matz It was my third year of trying to create the perfect lawn. I was doing quite well this summer. I'd reseeded the bare spots from winter's ravages. I'd found just the right grass seed for our soil conditions. I'd created a sprinkler system that worked well for both the lawn and for entertaining my four children. All was going well, until one day I noticed several sprouting dandelions. 'No problem,' I thought. I hurried to the store and bought an herbicide. I figured that by the next weekend, I'd have those yellow devils whipped. But when I got home, I took a closer look at the instructions. Reading the cautionary statements made me shudder; we live in a rural area with a nearby pond and have cats and dogs and children. I didn't want to inflict toxic chemicals on any of them. So I made the mixture weaker than the directions called for. Weak and ineffective: By the next weekend, those tough little dandelions didn't have so much as a withered leaf. I had promised my four-year old daughter Kayla we'd go fishing on Saturday. Kayla loves to fish and is very good at it. But when Saturday arrived, I found the little yellow splotches in my lawn had multiplied. 'I'll have to deal with the dandelions before we go fishing,' I told myself. 'The lawn is less than half an acre; how long can it take?' With screwdriver and garbage sack in hand, I attacked the pesky weeds. "Pickin' flowers, Daddy?" Kayla asked. "Yes, dear," I said, digging furiously at a tough root. "I'll help," she offered. "I'll give some to Mommy." "Go ahead, sweetie," I answered. "There's plenty." An hour passed, and the yellow splotches still remained. "You said we's going fishin' today," Kayla complained. "Yes, I know, dear," I said. "Just a little more flower picking, okay?" "I'll get the fish poles," Kayla announced. I labored on, prying up one stubborn root after another. "I found some worms under a rock, Daddy," Kayla piped up. "I put them in a cup. Are you ready?" "Almost, honey." More minutes dragged by. "You picked 'nough flowers, Daddy," Kayla insisted impatiently. "Okay, honey, just a few more," I promised. But I couldn't stop. The compulsion to finish the job was overwhelming. A few minutes later, a tap came on my shoulder. "Make a wish, Daddy!" Kayla chirped. As I turned, Kayla took a big breath, puffed, and sent a thousand baby dandelion seeds into the air. I picked her up and kissed her, and we headed for the fish pond. .·:*´¨`*:·..·:*´¨`*:·. *: * Richiele * * *·. .·* `*·-:¦:-*´ ³´`*:»§«:*´`³