I’m grateful for this summer’s bounty. We preserved so many cucumbers and tomatoes it isn’t funny. There are years’ worth of Thai dragon hot peppers yet to harvest and dry.
That’s not happening today.
We planned to do it. But first I set out to mow the front lawn. SO decided it high time to weed whack the edges of same patch of grass.
All went swimmingly at first. He had the courtesy to halt his efforts whenever I neared with the lawnmower.
At first. You can see where this is going, can’t you?
Finished cutting grass, I wheeled the mower onto a shady patch of concrete to reattach the recalcitrant grass chute, which I gave up trying to reinstall in the midst of my job. All of a sudden, I feel pain in the back of my head, as if someone threw a handful of pebbles at me.
Or hornets attacked.
I stood, whipped around, and backed up in one movement. There stood my dear husband, just a few feet away, industriously edging the driveway.
Near where I had knelt moments before.
Screaming, “Hey!” didn’t even register. I stomped into the garage, threw my gloves on the shelf, kicked my shoes into their usual corner near the door, and left him to put everything away.
I’m so done with this summer’s sweat and painful little indignities. And still the grass grows. The back is so high we should just get a goat.
I’m going to drown my sorrows in pictures of pretty musicians. Meanwhile, my husband did a nice job and apologized for the mistake.
Would you hire someone for yard work if you could?-