On a morning walk, I was wearing my iPod and groovin’ out to Melissa Etheridge. She’s always good for a "life-in-transition" phase. For those times when something - or someone - gave you the old raspberry (so to speak). Anyway, I was on to a great tune called Brave and Crazy. Unless you are not of the human persuasion, one has to "rock-out" to this tune. And, so I was.

I wasn’t singing so loudly as to attract stray dogs, but it was clear to anyone within view, I was "rocking-out." As I approached home, I always remember our guinea pigs (they’re in the news a lot lately!) because there are these large fields of grass I pass to get to my house. I try to pick some - the little buggers love it.

Melissa was getting to the point (if you know what I mean), and I began, well, I began a little dance with the grass. I pulled, and picked, gather the stalks when in the corner of my eye I noticed a walker by. And not just anyone, but my neighbor. What could I do? I was completely busted and there was no way to return to a manner of nonchalant woman who just moved in next door. Since I was in it deep, I decided I might as well go the whole nine yards and wiggle the grass in the air: Happy to see you! This young man barely nodded -as not to embarrass either one of us. I marched on to the tune playing in my ears and a fist-full of greens in my hand.