I'm in the process of converting my back yard to a place where I want to come home to, as if it were a vacation unto itself. Private, a pool with a sand beach, grill and picnic area, a lot of flowers and ornamental trees, a gazebo, party lights, maybe an ornamental pond, the whole enchilada. I reserve sovereign prerogative to unplug myself from the rest of humanity at my whim, and relax in a courtyard built by my own sweat equity.
"But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: for men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away, for his name is Obama."