Besides, I think they’re fairly low maintenance as far as raking goes

I would rather have been scrubbing the toilets. In fact, I offered to do just that, plus mop the floors, do the laundry, and any other wretched disgusting thing that could be thought up. But no.

He made me participate in yard work. With a hoe and a rake. Outside.

This is the series text messages between me and Ava.

Amylynn: M is making me do yard work. I want a divorce.

Ava: Yard work? I’m not familiar with that. What is it?

Amylynn: I’ll tell you what it is. It’s horrible.

Amylynn: If I get sunburned out here, there will be hell to pay.

Amylynn: I’d rather go hiking in Iran.

Ava: If it’s horrible and it’s not Bank of No Forks then it’s clearly someone else’s job. Tell him that. Tell him to go get those workers. And JC you could get really sunburned out there.

Amylynn: Come get me.

Ava: Did you tell him that your writing is “polished”? People with polished writing skills can not do yard work.

Amylynn: I won’t be able to write today. My hands will be too blistered.

Ava: Based on your current predicament and a conversation I just had with Ed, I’m certain we married badly.

Amylynn: Wanna switch for a week.

Amylynn: You hoe and rake and I’ll argue with Ed.

Ava: Hoe? Rake? What the hell is that????

Amylynn: I already told you. It’s horrible.

Amylynn: I just ripped open my thumb.

Amylynn: This counts as exercise right?

Ava: I never thought I’d say this, you need a divorce right now! This is just too, too much.

Ava: Not only does it count as exercise, you get ice cream afterwards.

Amylynn: Oooooo! I have a coupon for that.

Ava: New plan. I send Ed to your house to argue and hoe and we go for ice cream.

Amylynn: You, madam, are a genius.  

Yard work really, really blows.   I actually did rip my thumb open. It stings, but no one seems to care.

After a bit of sunstroke, My Honey and I were seated on the front porch in the shade sipping ice water. It’s still 100 degrees here. On September 25. Sigh.

We were discussing what we needed to do to make our front yard less “Section 8 housing” like. I said a tree. I’ve been wanting a tree in our front yard forever, but alas, My Honey pointed out the sewer line running smack down the middle of the yard made that darn near impossible.  We both agreed a fence would be nice. My Honey upped the ante with an eight foot wall.

I think we’re going to settle on a moat.