Ah, Spring! Delightful after an icy winter in Minnesota. The lovely fresh, warm air, the new blossoms, the charming bird songs, it is the glory time of nature.
But such a warm spring day also prompts the teenage boy across the alley to search out his tennis ball swatter from where ever he had stashed it over the winter. Unfortunately he finds it and he wants to develop his tennis elbow. So he takes to thumping his garage door with tennis balls. The sonorous door is aimed at my sun porch and produces a resounding WHOMP at frequent intervals. And thus I am reminded anew just what ‘sound’ logic is in the term, tennis racket!
Soon lawn mowers chug out of garages and add their drone to the cacophony. But the worst are the whining weed whackers, the very devil’s invention! Often the whacker operator wears earplugs but the hell with the neighbors.
Next the various contractors will be here with religious radio stations blaring for hours. They attend competing churches so must vie with each other with volume for doctrinal supremacy.
When all those pests are operational spring is fully SPRUNK (my classy new word combination of ‘sprung’ and ‘sunk’. You may borrow it if you like.)
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