In the garden of Weedin'
Today's post isn't really fitness related, but I suppose I could set it up that way by saying, 'A few hours of yard work is great cardio'. There, now it's an official "fitness" post and I can continue on to the rant that my subconscious mind is trying to weave from four successive, uppercase letters I dare not mention here.
I finally realized today why I despise working in the yard so much. On the other hand, if it weren't for this one major annoyance, it would almost be euphoric. I don't know if you know this, but apparently there is a spot in every yard where sun and shade fade into one another so fluidly that Mother Nature decides she needs to hand out free hats. They aren't at all attractive or functional and, no matter the day, she only seems to have one type in stock. Made up of a mixture of nasties ranging from midges to mosquitoes, I've come to simply call them "Gnat Hats". Once this cornucopia of carnivorous culicidae is clamoring for your crown, it must be worn for the duration of the project. You can spray, swat, and run in circles all you want, but it's yours to keep.
I was actually enjoying the seemingly endless cutting, pruning, wacking, and weeding until the thistle tugging therapy came to a halt and I found myself on the steps of Chapeau Boutique de Mere Nature. Being her only customer today, I thought I'd be treated like royalty and adorned with cherry blossom petals or at least a sweet sap. Instead, she met me at the door, tilted her head to one side, and with a condescending wave of her longest, gnarly finger said, "No such luck; it's the Gnat Hat for you sweaty man!"
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