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Tom Coburn is a Big Fat Jerk


Home of the Barking Moonbat


Monday, April 18, 2005

Warming Up

Warming up to my summer routine now. Ran home from classes, jumped into grubs, ran outside, grabbed a pitchfork, grabbed that rootbound little lilac tree. Dig dig dig dig, sort out rocks, dig some more, plunge hands in holes (nails once a lovely home-manicured winter shiny patina sacrificed to digging digging digging), plunge pitchfork in hole again, hear honking ...

... run out front to see who's honking, meet a perfectly lovely woman from down the road who's inviting me to the Wednesday Women's Meeting, meaning all the women have all finally accepted me into the fold, but only because I haven't run off with anyone's husband or boyfriend, haven't once had a wild party, don't appear to do anything worse than smoke pot (although I don't but they're all sure I do because they're all potheads), don't flounce around out front in a bikini or throw myself in the middle of the road looking to catch me the first man to go by, I have a job, I work, I appear studious and, like all of them, I have a perfectly stupid hairdo --- well, okay, I gave up getting hairdos a few years ago and it's now wild and insane and hanging to the middle of my back ...

... give the most gracious thanks for the invitation, panickedly inventory my wardrobe to see if I have anything appropriate to wear to the Wednesday Women's Meeting, dig around in the hole, pull the lilac out of the pot (a job, believe me), tear its rootball apart, drop it in hole, cover with dirt and straw, water, notice my grandmother's iris that I finally got in the ground last fall are getting ready to bloom and are my grandmother's pinks (yu people inherit money --- we inherit plants --- thus, the plant room [don't ask]) ...

... run inside, pull my jeans and shirt off, dump alcohol all over me to chase off the ticks and chiggers and noseeums, put jeans and shirt back on, run back out, grab the lawn mower and mow about a quarter acre, think about doing more, but it looks like it might be getting ready to rain, plus I appear to be covered in *^%$#@!! ticks and chiggers and noseeums, run back in, run the hottest bath I can stand, jump in it and scrub to get the *&^#$@! ticks and chiggers and noseeums off me ...

... put jammies on, fix myself a nice big bowl of locally grown strawberries and fresh cream, chow down ...

... and debate: grading? Or waterproofing the now completely built strawberry bed on the front porch?

Or more mowing? I still have an acre or so to go, as the back part gets brush hogged.

Summer's almost here. I'm just getting warmed up.


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