SageTree

I remember the first time I swore in front of my Mom. We were tilling the garden and the engine on the rototiller staled. I put my hand down on a hot part of the engine unknowingly with the intention of pull starting it again, only to shout,'God Damn IT!'

And then froze and looked at her.

'That is a good time to do it'

Wheew, a relief for any 7th grader.

My swearing became a lot more frequent and careless around the time of my parents divorce when I was 16-17 and I told them frankly, that I was pretty angry and I really wasn't going to be hold back with any of my feelings. Still a pretty formal engagement.

However I'll never forget the sign in front of the school bus hanging above us all.

"Swearing is the effort of a weak mind to speak effectively."

That is one thing that has never really stopped ringing in my head, when I do curse. Which I have curtailed and nearly stopped over the years. Except for when I am working more construction related jobs. One of the worst times was doing garden maintenance with a group of ladies. Don't know where the idea came from, but this sorta surprised me after working on a commercial landscaping crew with masons carpenters and grunts.

When I worked at the greenhouse I worked with Amish ladies, that is when not cursing nearly became an art form of choosing better words to express myself, out of respect.

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