Saturday, July 09, 2005
Life and limbs
So, the last time I was workin' in the yard, doin' more than just mowing, I was trimming tree limbs, about as big around as my finger, from some maple trees out back.
Y'all all recall what happened.
Today, I'll be cutting tree limbs, about as big around as my wrist, from a tree out front that has gotten so full the bermudagrass, starvin' for sun, is dying out.
As big around as my wrist.
I should probably just start the truck, set Dr. ER up in there with some of her tunes and a nice "Betty" (a form of Harlequin romance), get it all cooled off and point it toward the hospital. Save time, and blood, that way.
--ER
Y'all all recall what happened.
Today, I'll be cutting tree limbs, about as big around as my wrist, from a tree out front that has gotten so full the bermudagrass, starvin' for sun, is dying out.
As big around as my wrist.
I should probably just start the truck, set Dr. ER up in there with some of her tunes and a nice "Betty" (a form of Harlequin romance), get it all cooled off and point it toward the hospital. Save time, and blood, that way.
--ER
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It'll be mighty hard to type with a hook at the end of your arm, so you might want to be more careful this time. Of course, a hook could be useful in other yard work... :)
Sigh. All I did today was cut my right thumb while using a file to sharpen an edger, and cut my left thumb while slicin' taters for supper.
Problee. Once in Texas, I was climbin' over a bobwar fence that had stood in the same place since the 1880s prolly, and a strand broke and I got a tetanus booster and really wanted a blackleg vaccination. Unless I just sit quietly, I am ALWAYS pokin' myself, or trying to slice somethin' off, or singe or scald or otherwise maim myself. Hell, I prolly should go on to the hospital every time I fry bacon. The other day, I managed to burn my FACE with hot steam while ironin' a shirt.
I just don't know what to day about that, ER.
I guess you know this: I ain't hirin' you to be my gardner or to do my laundry.
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I guess you know this: I ain't hirin' you to be my gardner or to do my laundry.
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