Yard Work…

My brother came over today to rotor till and help me plant my garden. After going to buy the plants we figured it wouldn’t take that long to turn the dirt over and add some compost and peat moss, so we farted around for a bit. We hit a few garage sales in the neighborhood, played with our dogs and made a kick ass concoction of mangos, oranges and strawberries in the juicer. When we got around to pulling the rotor tiller out of the garage we noticed it needed gas. We went to the gas station…the gas station we had just stopped at an hour before so I could grab a pack of smokes. Upon getting back we realized I was out of 2 cycle oil, thus a third trip to the gas station.

Finally, at almost 3:00, we figured it was time to get to work. Except the piece of shit fine piece of machinery I bought my husband two years ago wouldn’t stay running. After numerous tries and my brother pulling out the spark plug…yadda, yadda, checking the whatchamacallit and wiggling the thingamajig; our only option was to do it by shovel and rake…all 500 square feet of it. FIVE HUNDRED SQUARE FEET!

We almost finished but my bro was looking a wee tired and my body began taunting me:

Back: “You think I hurt now, just wait until tomorrow, Bitch!”
Legs: “Cramps? I’ll give you cramps; right in the middle of the night.”
Arms: “You think you can feel our pain after a few reps with those wimpy 2 lb weights? We’ll show you pain.”

So we called it a day and adjourned to the hot tub…except I wasn’t exactly ‘prepped’ to put on a bathing suit in front of my brother, if you know what I mean. So while he was already soaking his sore muscles in bubbly bliss, I was up in the bathroom still doing yard work.