Hack and whack

So, I'm sitting outside, on my kneeling pad, hack and whacking back some greenery.  As I move along the garden rockery, I scoosh myself off the pad, hip hop down the walk, and reposition my butt back onto the pad. 

It's monotonous work.

It starts to warm up, the sun is overhead and I decide to go into the house to change into lighter weight clothes. Of course getting up off the ground is not easy once you hit your seventies, I have to get into a hands and knees position and then hope I have enough strength to hoist myself up.  I manage.

Once I'm in shorts and short sleeve shirt I return to work.

Of course, during the process of hacking and whacking...yuck...I get slug slime all over my hands...I HATE THAT.  I immediately want to go in and wash my hands, but know that's futile 'cause I'll only get slimed more before the job is done.  So, I chop along. 

It's kind of tedious work, but eventually I reach the corner of the garden that is in my neighbor's yard. I contemplate going around the corner and finishing up, but decide she might like the overgrown look, and stop at the corner. I had forgotten just how wide the sidewalk was.

It's hot...I'm sweating...I've not 'sweated' since last summer.  I confess, it felt good.  Don't wipe your bow...don't wipe your brow...you've been slug-slimed. 

I turn, and look back at the hack and whack job I've given the garden, it's lookin' good.  I'm pretty proud of myself.

Uh-oh!

I'm going to have to get up.  Shoot.  I hadn't thought of that.  I've been sitting and scooshing for quite a while.  I'm going to have to stand to go get my 'clean-up' debris box...dear, me.

I contemplate.  Do I have enough energy to get up again?  Not only do I have concern if I have the energy to get into the hand and knees position one more time, do I have enough push left to actually get on my feet?  Oh...and this is going to hurt.  I've bare knees...there ain't going to be 'nuttin' between them and the concrete.  Dang! 

Maybe I should just call Frankie to come help pull me up.  Nah, I don't want her to know how difficult it is to get back on my feet. I will struggle on.  Of course Zorro is there...but, how much help is he going to be.

Me:  "Oh, Zorro, this is going to hurt."
Zorro.  Wag, wag, wag, tail wag, wag.
I stretch my legs out in front of me, wipe the dirt off them.
Zorro.  Jumps into my lap, front paws on my shoulders and makes serious eye contact.  "Love you, mom."

I shift my weight to my left hip to begin the roll over.

Me:  "Ow, Ouch, Ow."
Zorro.  Gazes on.  "I showed you I love you...that's all I can do."

Whew, I made it. 

I don't mind the physical labor, aching muscles and all, and who does not enjoy time in the sunshine?  But, it's time for clean up.  I hate the clean-up...I know I should do that as I go...because then there would be not clean-up...but...I hate it...so I don't. 

Eventually, I get my debris box and proceed to pick up all the clippings, yuck...more slug slime.  Did I mention I hate that?  I sweep the sidewalk, lean on the broom handle and admire the fruits of my labors. 

Good job...good work...well done.

Man, am I going to hurt tonight.

Footnote:  Actually the pain was not bad.  I guess I might be in better shape than I thought...I'm just not as agile.

Yeah....right!!!!!!!!!