Sheesh! I’ve been catching all kinds of flak for my post about My Captain’s sole efforts in building our brick patio. Let me assure you, Vern (can I call you Vern?) that I am indeed in there helping! I’m right in the thick of all of that hot, sandy, sweaty, spider-filled, roach-infested, teaming-with-sugar-ants pile of bricks, sand, and gravel! I am! I am, too!!!! REALLY!
It’s just that after a while, my arthritic knee, and my sore hip, and my stiff back get all hot and sticky and uncomfortable, and the sweat starts dripping down cracks and crevices on my body that make me squirm worse than Miley Cyrus during a Music Video.
Except that I keep my tongue in my mouth….
… for the most part anyways.
And then there is the fact that I am highly distractible.
Take the flowers in my garden above our new patio, for instance. Aren’t they gorgeous? (Ignore the dead coneflowers, I’m harvesting them for next year’s seeds!)
And if I happen to look up when I’m wiping the sweat off of my forehead, and notice my beautiful hybrid red Coreopsis…..
Or my sweet seed-sown Zinnias…
Or my sassy seed-sown impatiens….
in amongst my Pink Lemonade Honeysuckle, well, it’s understandable that I might not be as efficient a worker as My Captain, you know?
I knew you’d understand.
Besides, check out my WOUND! I got this when I was stacking bricks on my arm to heft them over to where I was working.
It’s blurry, I know, but trust me, it should be enough to cause you great concern for my welfare.
Also, it should buy me a bit of a pass tomorrow, with any luck. I just keep whining that my arm is turning numb, and I think Gangrene may be setting in.
Working as Hard as I Can, Given Who I Am,