It was cold. The type of cold that numbs

It was cold. The type of cold that numbs your fingers and burns your lungs. But I continued to wander, enjoying the

crisp smell of winter. I noticed many chimneys had smoke coming out of them, but this one house caught my attention.

The smoke was purple, you know, hazy sort of. My dog, Fluff, looked up at it. He remarked that he liked it and would love to chase squirrels later. Where was I?

looking to the cat I realized there were no answers coming from there, I gently reached for my

purse to search for my cellphone. Maybe if I 'phoned a friend', I would do so much better. I dialed the first number on my list. It was Anne. I hoped she would have a better idea

but what was I thinking? This was not Who Want's to be a Millionaire, this is real life - and there ain't no life lines, honey, especially since Anne didn't answer. So, I gathered

my wits about me and went over my options - croquet mallet or monkey wrench? I was having trouble deciding which would be more appropriate when out of the corner of my eye, I saw

the weed whacker. I was never so happy to see a gas powered lawn tool. In the years leading to that day, grounds keeping equipment and I had shared too much tumult...too much pain

-- pain that I could not keep secret from my bladesharpener, Klaus. Klaus was a really sharp guy -- a guy with a rapier wit. God, I miss those days.