Just Don’t Text Me “Ok.” Okay?

Atlantic Ocean, en route to the Bahamas Photo Credit: Doree Weller

Atlantic Ocean, en route to the Bahamas
Photo Credit: Doree Weller

It’s not that I’m against the word, “Ok.”  In spoken language, it has a myriad of meanings and subtle intonations.  It can express doubt, excitement, agreement, irritation, interest, or be a simple act of checking in.  But in text, the flexibility that spoken language gives it becomes a mire of uncertainty.  And quite frankly, it’s lazy.

“Ok” has its place in text messaging.

“Running late.”  “Ok.”

“Meet you at 7?”  “Ok.”

“Fajitas okay for dinner?”  “Ok.”

“Wanna watch House of Cards reruns tonight?”  “Ok.”

But when I’ve taken the time to share an entire thought with people, and they text back “Ok,” it sounds like they were too busy or disinterested to bother to type an entire response.  Even “lol” is a better response.  I know they probably didn’t laugh out loud, but that shorthand tells me that they at least thought my anecdote was amusing.  That they were paying attention.

Please, heed my words!  If you care about someone, unless you’re answering a direct question in which “Ok” is the appropriate response or a placeholder acknowledgement, think before you type those letters.  This has been a public service announcement.

The Unexpected Tree

I love my yard and I love my garden.  I did my best to keep my garden going all summer, but once I went on vacation in August, I came back and got a little… lazy.  In my defense, it’s been 110 for most of the summer, and my tomato plants really weren’t producing anymore.

So, on Monday, I went to my local A&P Nursery to pick up my cold weather veggies.  I got peas, lettuce, spinach, more tomatoes, a banana pepper, and some herbs.  I intended to start planting them as soon as I got home.

Now, I knew I had a tree in my garden.  I have no idea what kind of tree it is or where it came from, but it was shading my tomato plants, so I figured I’d leave it be and dig it out at the end of summer to plant somewhere else.  It wasn’t until I went out to my garden today that I realized that tree had suddenly become 10 feet tall!  How did it get so tall???


It’s the tree in the background with the purple tops.

Now I have a problem.  I dug my shovel in next to it, figuring I could lever it out a bit.  It didn’t move.  I swear, my shovel handle started to bend.  So now I have choices.  I can either fight the tree, or I can just chop it down.  I feel kinda bad though.  I told that tree I’d replant it elsewhere, and here I am, chopping it down.  If I weren’t so lazy, I could have easily dug it out months ago.  But how was I supposed to know the mutant tree would shoot up overnight?

By the time you read this, the issue should be resolved, but at the time of this writing, I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.