Yard Work and Gardening
I didn't do much yard work in my youth since I had two older brothers, and my dad enjoyed mowing. My job was trimming around trees and such with the big clippers. Since I thought I was cool, I'd strap on my Walkman and earphones, grab the clippers, complain to my dad, and get on with it. Do you know how many times I accidentally snipped my earphones cord while bending down to trim grass? Too many to count, I tell you. One would think I would learn my lesson, but no. I had the coolness factor to uphold. Listen to my Milli Vanilla tape or bust!
Now, I live in a super cute rental home with gorgeous flowers, raised garden beds, and huge Junipers with a gazillion small, pointy pine cones. The only rule concerning the yard is when we moved in, there were no weeds, so when we move out ... no weeds! So, I took it upon myself to do some early weeding yesterday. Turns out, I removed the sunflower starts. Oops. Strike one.
Annie, our landlord, came over and told me what needs to be done for spring clean up. Pulling the correct weeds, raking, sweeping by the curb, etc. Easy enough! I can use her yard debris garbage can on wheels and fill it up with our stuff. Being Type A and procrastinating on my other work, I borrowed her rake and started on the front yard. Ten little piles of pine cones and needles. I wheel over the empty can and start scooping up a pile. The can lid is flipped open, so I push it over to the next pile. Have you ever tried to push a can like that with the lid open? Well, it just falls down toward you because the weight has shifted. Down I fall, knees smack the lid, my head and shoulders in the can. Awesome. Especially since three neighbors witnessed my fall. Pics are already trending on Twitter, I bet. Strike two.
Emil's reaction when I tell my story: We skied five miles today, and you didn't fall. Yet, you fall into a garbage can in our front yard?
I still have several hours of yard work to complete. What will strike three be? I'm betting it will involve clippers and a body part.