@Mike.. Well you can't legally spray for earthworms in the U.S. and they are good for the soil. However, as you may know, if you have alot of them, they leave piles of worm castings on the turf surfarce which when run over by mowing equipment leave lots of "soil patches" all over the place. Common pesticides like Sevin for surface feeders, or Merit and Bandit for subsurface feeders seem to reduce their numbers though. I had to look up the chemical compound you referenced, which turns out to be Primo Maxx. I don't use plant growth regulators, because I like mowing. However the golf course uses the stuff under about ten different names frequently in an attempt to not have to mow constantly. From what I understand, there are some downfalls to it's use if you are not using other chemicals to combat Primos' shortfalls. The turf color fades greatly when PGR's are used regularly and must be constantly offset with 15-0-0 chelated Iron. Also, summer stress is greatly increased with PGR use. Are you looking to reduce mowing intervals, or to suppress existing growth so you can overseed?

What is it about fishing that makes it so wonderful? I bet I could write a book (literally-- no pun intended) on this one question. When I'm on the water, every emotion comes into play-- The anticipation of the day when I'm leaving the boat ramp-- will it be a nice day? Will I be able to pattern the fish and catch "the big one"? Sitting there with a few dozen other boats, waiting for "blast off", the adrenaline building up, and then your number comes up, and the throttle stick gets jammed forward. In an instant, you're going across the lake at 60 miles an hour. It's the closest thing to flying that there is! At the same time, looking around at your surroundings, just enjoying the absolute beauty of it all, feeling the warmth of the morning sun, thanking God that you're alive to appreciate this!! Once you get to your "spot", (and this includes fishing from shore, as well) there's the aniticpation of the bite-- a complete paradox of feelings-- you're waiting for that first "tap tap tap" on the end of your line signaling that age old instinctive battle of life, but at the same time it's a very calm, peaceful time, when it's easy to get lost in yourself-- almost like a focused meditation. Then there's the hit, and the battle's on-- you've got a milliion things going thru your mind, all focused on that fish at the other end-- Is the knot on the lure going to hold? I hope the line isn't too chaffed? Will he measure? Is it a "PIG"? Then, depending on whether YOU win, or the FISH wins, it's either complete elation, or frustration, and either way, it's time to do it all over again. Also, either way, you feel a very special connection with nature that's indescribeable. There's also times when God sends you very special gifts, that have nothing to do with fishing. Things like a beautiful sunrise over the water, as the mist is rising in the new light. Or the time a couple of ducklings decided they wanted to follow me for a couple of hours. Or the best one-- as I was silently going along the edge of the lake one morning on the trolling motor, I came around a point, and there was a doe and her fawn taking a morning drink, and as I came around the point, the doe picked her head up completely startled and I'm sure, wondering how the heck I could have snuck up on them so quietly! but the best part was that once she realised there was nothing to fear from me, she and her fawn went back to their "breakfast", as though I wasn't even there. An absolutely beautiful sight. This is only beginning to touch on what I love about fishing, and why it's very literally what I live for.

I'm not normally interested until the last day and it's between 2 players. Then I pick a favourite, whether it's Tiger or not. I hate to admit it, but there were times when he played when I wished he would lose because he had a nasty attitude (over his own faults usually). I saw him slam his club down a few times and my whole perception changed.

He follows me around like a little goat. I mean literally one or two steps behind me. While I am cooking dinner, going back and forth from the stove to fridge (maybe what, four feet?) he will walk back and forth WITH me, talking all the while. Which of course means I have to walk AROUND him each time, because he is in my way. If we are shopping, and I take two steps over to get something, he will turn the cart around to follow me. Drives me INSANE. DD is the same way, I can't be more than two or three feet away from her at all times. He can't find anything either, especially if it is not exactly where he expects it to be. If I put the salt shaker back four inches over from where I got it, then it has disappeared forever as far as he is concerned. Anything on the door of the fridge ceases to exist as well. It's like a rip in the time space continuum or something. I have said more than once "Are you sure you want me to look for it? Because if I come up there and find it right away, you are in deep trouble!". He usually opts to look around some more (because he knows I will find it right away). But in the end he gives up. I say he has a "broken looker". DD inherited it from him, and she is a girl so it cannot be attached to the Y chromosome, even though most of us suspect it is, since it is usually men that have the problem ;). Dances.