Uphill. Both ways.

Ugh, I did yardwork today for about five hours, give or take a couple smoke breaks. Suck suck suckity suck. I can’t stop coughing up lungs-ful of crud. When I blew my nose, dirt, a couple twigs, and a baby squirrel came out. I actually had to take a couple hits on the inhaler tonight. It went a lot quicker than I thought it would though, because my girlfriend was nice enough to help me out. *waves at Mah Kizzle*

This crotchety old lady that lives next door to us is completely psycho about leaves. Well, she’s psycho in general, but let’s just dwell on this one aspect of her neuroses for a moment. One leaf lands in her yard and she waddles out there to scoop it up and deposit it in her yardy, and she thinks I should have the same crazy-ass tendencies about my dead tree poop. This gal is old… I mean old. Her and her husband are the only remaining original house owners in this section of town that went up in 1948. I’m pretty sure she was old then. Maybe she’s Gollum.

I grew up on the farm, and one nice thing about living in the country is we never had to rake leaves. Just let them be, right where God puts ’em, I say. I did have to mow about a football field’s worth; at least it was a riding mower though. I made the boys help with leaf detail, and oh, you know their lives are soooo rough. Of course I was a mean ole slavedriver crackin’ a whip. Get ready for the When I Was Your Age Schpiel, because the boys had to hear it. When I was Rocky’s age, I was getting up at 5am to do chores in the barn, get ready for school, and then my bus came at 6:30am and I had an hour bus ride to school. In the winter, we had to break the ice in all the water buckets before we hauled fresh water in five gallon buckets to all the animals. I had to pitch horse crap, carry bales of hay and straw, carry a five gallon water bucket on each arm, help load up the truck with firewood and unload it back at the house, help put up and repair fence, and load and unload 50 pound sacks of grain. I even had to help Mom with the horse breeding. Boy, is that an experience! *chuckles*

Soooo, I worked until 6:15 and took like the quickest shower ever, and was back out the door at 6:40 to go to the hockey game. It was great; there were fights and blood on the ice — and bonus plan, baby — we won! I like me a little hockey with my violence.

Rip it. And stuff like that there.

Author: Dory

Believer. Wife. Mom. Deaf chick. ADD-addled. Photographer. Graphic designer. Blogger. Guano whacknut. Not necessarily in that order.

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