The melodious rattling of my teeth

Here, for the few that will read it, is a little piece of nostalgia guaranteed to brighten your day. This little reminiscence was prompted by the fact that, while on the lawn mower, I just missed a phone call. Now, those of you whose lawn was bladed, tilled, raked and rolled prior to planting may well sail along at a good clip on a lawn that's smooth as cornsilk, with your beverage unmolested, your pompadour undisturbed, and your sacroiliac unscathed and entirely tranquil. I on the other hand have an Ozark lawn, brought into existence when I began transforming and mowing an old cow pasture. The resulting lawn, you may well imagine, is not smooth as cornsilk. it's bumpy, unforgiving, and rough as a cob! For those unfamiliar with the term, rough as a cob, imagine if you will, a day when toilet tissue was an unimaginable luxury, and once dried corn had been chucked and the kernels removed for hominy grits and livestock sustenance, the cobs were provided in the gentleman's retreat for derriere grooming purposes. Thus, the term, rough as a cob. Picture this at your own peril. The very thought causes my hemorrhoids to pucker! Long story short, I missed my call because, during the buzzing and whirring of my device, my ears perceived nothing but jarring bones and the melodious rattling of my teeth. SC