While we're on the subject of our yard, let me introduce you to my favorite tree, Jeremiah, named after my war cry of choice, the one that I'd holler before flinging myself down the tallest slide in the playground when I was around three or four years old. Why Jeremiah? Because I thought that I was yelling GERANIMO like all of the rest of the children who, in retrospect, were laughing at me not with me, aren't you just shocked that I never picked up on that?
The original Jeremiah declaration represented the first in a long line of self inflicted embarrassments, which I am sure that those who know me would happily confirm if any of them actually took the time to comment on this blog. FIVE POINTS FOR ME.
But rest assured that Jeremiah's legacy of public humiliation is alive and well and not just because his namesake happens to reside in our front yard. As if I need to point that out.