We managed to do some yardwork today as the weather finally cooperated. I succeeded in weeding by using my body weight to pull the weeds instead of my back muscles. I'd grab a handful of weeds and sort of fall backward onto my heels. It worked well and definitely minimized the pain I had to deal with. Patrick heroically mowed our incredibly overgrown lawn, after going to pick up the mower from Sears. As it turned out, the carburetor was faulty, so they rebuilt it and didn't charge us a dime. I love warranties. I'm very grateful to him for dealing with what was rapidly turning into a gluttonous horse's paradise. We'd nearly reached the point of having sort of waves in the grass, as if the house were floating upon a green sea. It was getting just a touch ridiculous, Constant Readers. I am no longer struck with intense shame upon returning home and beholding our lawn.
As it is now time for our dinner before we head down for Patrick's rehearsal (I am accompanying him since I'm sick to death of not being able to see him - thanks, Tacoma Opera), I will leave you with some pictures of my fabulous toes. I sincerely hope none of you reading this are of the foot-hating persuasion, so as to avoid feeling creeped out by the aforementioned photographs. If indeed you are, my apologies.
|Stormy Weather Toes I|
|Stormy Weather Toes II|