Bow Tie o’ the Day and I simply could not believe what we saw on a shelf at DICK’S MARKET while we were there shopping over the weekend. (FYI I was not shopping for toilet paper, or water, or hand sanitizer.) When we saw this product, we were stunned to realize that we coulda been bazillionaires when we had the house in Delta. We coulda turned the tumbleweed ranch which was our yard and surrounding property into this wisp of a product. We could have marketed little poof balls of our own organically grown tumbleweeds! Instead, we just burned the poor things year-round for a couple of decades. Those weeds multiplied and replenished the earth of Millard County, including my own corner property, as if somebody was being paid a bounty for each new tumbleweed that sprouted forth out of the ground. All that money never came to pass, and all those tumbleweeds went up in smoke—making me a cold-blooded tumbleweed killer, and leaving me with no bigly fortune for all of my effort. Ah, the lost possibilities. Ah, the coins which coulda been a’jinglin’ in my pocket.
There’s still time for the “Tumbleweed Festival”