Last summer, I had a chat with my gardener about moving some decorative concrete blocks I have in my front yard. Vividly explaining with hand gestures and wild arm movements I depicted what I wanted to have done. He shook his head and said he could do it, but that it would take a while as he was running a little behind on jobs.
"No problem." Says I.
A few months later he said he would 'get to it soon', and he was glad I was patient.
Time went by.
I don't remember the last time we discussed the job, I know it was while the house was still on the market, because what he asked was if I still wanted the job done.
"Yes," I said, "I do."
Okay, I knew I was still on his schedule.
Two weeks ago my patience ----ran out----. I started to move the concrete blocks myself. Every time I had a few minutes, I would don my work shoes and tote a half dozen blocks to their new location. Honest, I thought once my gardener saw that his old, decrepit, feeble, hunchbacked, client had begun the job he would be at my door telling me he could finish the job in a month (at most).
Well..........that didn't happen.
So, little by little my old, decrepit, feeble, hunchbacked body moved those blocks...every single one of them. And, let me tell you those big ones were dang, dang, heavy. Slowly. Surely. I built myself a new retaining wall. And, I'm pretty proud of myself. True, it definitely does not look professional by any means. It's a bit crooked, if you looking for a straight line...and, it's a bit wavy, as far as the horizon of it goes, BUT I did it...I did it, old, decrepit, feeble, hunchbacked person that I am. Never tell an old person they can't do something.
My gardener comes today...Hmmmm???
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