I had turned down an invitation to go to Columbia for a Gamecocks exhibition game today because I HAD to get out and work in the yard. It looked awful. Kavis has graduated now, and is on to bigger and better things. He mowed it last year, I think, just to be nice. But he lives all the way across town now, and my backup guy (for whom I do not have a number) hasn't shown up this year (despite hopes). Mother is coming in on Tuesday, and there was just no choice. I had to get out there and do it my damn self. So I decided to do so, although I would MUCH rather have had a fun day out with Miss Kat and Dana.
First though, I was up way too early. I played with my phone a bit and had a buddy named Frank come over. We had a nice time. Then it was time for breakfast. I made myself a lovely breakfast, in part because I was sacrificing my (gorgeous) Saturday to do something I loathe. After breakfast I was sleepy, so I went back to sleep for a while. When I woke up it was about 11:30 or so. I knew if I put this off any longer I wouldn't do it. So I got out there.
The weather was pretty, so at least it wasn't hot. I started off by cutting some 'volunteers' out. I am doing this all the time in my yard. I guess it's from the birds, but there is shit just springing up everywhere that I don't want! One of the reasons I can't get excited about putting things out, and the tending thereof, is that SO incredibly much time has to be spent killing things I didn't want in the first place. Now to affect the necessary killing, I needed to buy some stump killer. You'd think that would be the easy part, right? Wrong.
The stump killer I used to use was simple and straightforward. You cut the offending plant, squirted this stuff on the stump, and done. They don't *&&^%$$#!! make that any more. The only stump killer I could find required mixing with water (it was in powdered form), then you had to drill holes in the stump and pour this stuff in. Well I guess that's fine if you're Laura fucking Ingles. I first tried Kmart, where I figured they were just out of what I wanted, as per usual. So I went to Home Depot, where they also didn't have it. In addition there were a couple of lesbians there who wanted to lecture me on what I needed to do. I understand that they live for this stuff, but I really wasn't looking for a class. I finally just bought some 'brush killer' in a spray bottle and decided to hope for the best.
By the time I finished killing the things that bugged me the most, my thighs were screaming, and the rest of my body was ominously unhappy. This was after about a half hour. And I hadn't even starteed on the real work yet. I had to mow. The unseasonable cool weather, coupled with approximately seventeen feet of rain we've had this spring had whipped the weeds into a frenzy of hugeness. My lawn looked like Angela Davis's pubic hair (circa about 1972). I got out the lawn mower and it gamley started on the second or third pull. That was one of my brighter strokes of genius - to buy a 'reconditioned' mower from the flea market rather than a new one. I paid $65 for it about four years ago, and it's still going strong.
The back yard is full of clover, and I hadn't realized just how high it had grown. It was well over ankle-high, and it really took some doing to get the mower through it. I had to go slowly and mow it all twice, etc. I ran out of the last of the gas when I was almost done. Sigh. I really felt like my determination was being tested.
I went in the house, got my wallet and stuff, and went to the gas station for gas. While I was there I filled up the car too. Then I came back and finished. Fortunatetly I had already put up all the trimmers/clippers/etc. I just put the mower away and crawled into the house. I was really hurting, but I was too filthy to lie down yet. I had to go through the shower, which I did, amazingly, after taking some Tylenol. I was standing under the water listing the things I had to do before I could lie down. I did them. Wincing and whining the whole time. There was no one there to hear me complain but the cats, so I made all the noise I wanted. Then I crept to the bed and collapsed.
I lay there for a while, thinking I would go to sleep, but I didn't. By this time it was about 4:30 or so, and I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Despite the rest of my body screaming DON'T MOVE - EVER!! My stomach was hungry, and when tummy ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. I resolutely got up and started moving around to get dressed. There was no point in having a blood sugar crash on top of the other misery.
I called Rhonda and went to pick her up to take her to supper. The problem was that I was so hungry that I couldn't decide what I wanted. I would no sooner make up my mind than I would think of something else that seemed even MORE delicious. On the way to her house I decided to have mussels yaki, baked spaghetti, a burger, a milk shake, stuffed flounder, and more old people's food, in succession. Rhonda, bless her, was no help - she doesn't seem to have cravings, and never seems to know what she wants. We ended up going to Red Robin, where I ATTACKED a salted caramel milkshake (one of the best things just ever - and the main reason I went there), a veggie patty melt, onion rings, and a salad with blue cheese dressing. YUM!!
I felt so much better after eating that I decided to chance a stroll through Ross Dress for Less, but that was hubris. We hadn't gotten in the door good before I ran into a guy I have kind of been ducking online. Then shortly afterwards, I started hurting again. Strangely, it was my shoulders that were killing me. I just felt as if I needed to lie down. I took Rhonda home, went home myself, and collapsed. I took more Tylenol, but that was it.
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