I've been singing an old song lately, but the lyrics are altered to fit my life:
Summertime, and the livin' is killin'
Grass is growin', and the weeds are high
Bushes need trimmin', but geez now it is rainin'
Hush all you muscles, Ben-Gay is nigh.
Thanks to a rainy, windy, chilly day, I can either do some geneology this afternoon or read. I'll probably read since I'm involved in Mrs. Lincoln at the moment. It's June 9th but I'm wearing sweats, plus a nice warm fleece jacket to keep warm because I refuse to turn on the heat in June. This is a bummer.
Yesterday the sun was out so I used the trimmer for about two hours and still didn't make a dent in the work to be done. I tell Dave I can't prune the bushes because there are still baby birds in the nests. :D
The torturers at physical therapy have been mugging me twice a week and then all that trimming didn't help. Thank heaven for Ben-Gay! One of these days I'll get back in shape - except that I can practically hear the grass growing from inside. Yikes! Meanwhile, if you wondered why my posts are so sporadic lately, that's the answer.