“Bookworm or Earthworm”

To read or to weed is the problem that confronts

me whenever I have a few extra minutes. Reading
satisfies the wanderlust in me. It affords the
opportunity to abandon the monotonous paths of
everyday life and to trip excitedly along the
mysterious trails in the enchanting land of books.
Lost in the magic of the printed page, I can cast off
my customary clothing and array in the raiment of
a victorious knight or a football star. No longer
shackled by the chains of time and space, I shiver
with Washington’s valiant men in the biting cold of
Valley Forge and I kneel in reverent awe at
Bethlehem’s crib. Is it any wonder that I am unable
to resist the beckoning call of a good book?
My interest in weeding is probably the result of
my interest in reading. This occupation puts me on
a par with those noble characters that I have
admired in books. Few tasks are more intriguing to
me than that of rescuing struggling plants from the
greedy claws of the choking weeds. I like the feel
of the cold and damp earth as I eject the intruding
roots. With the confident swagger of a conquering
hero, I march triumphantly through our flower
garden, leaving grateful shrubs in my wake. Even
the squirming worms wriggle their gratitude for
my noble deed. Yes, recreation time is always
debating time for me. The topic of this secret
controversy ever remains the same: to read or to
weed?