I feel it is my duty as a forum member to warn and remind my fellow gardeners with too much ambition and too little time that you are going to walk slowly and make funny noises as you reach up, just to rub your eye, the morning after you tackle that big project in the yard, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.
Working all day in my yard, for two days, felt so good at the end of each day, it's the next morning that gets ya!
We chopped down some 35 year old Pine shrub ornamentals that should only be 3 feet tall, that were 12 feet. I know, I have no business being on a forum, if I let this happen. I cut, and drug limbs that were bigger than I am, for hours. Feeling good about completing a long overdo chore, I am rewarded with a new and also labor intensive chore. I have plants that were growing in a gentle shade, now being glared down by full sun. I refuse to acknowledge my body thinks these plants can just drop dead, damn it. So, new spots for these plants are chosen throughout the yard. One scoop of the shovel in each hole, was a total gamble. Some dug nice, showing decent soil, barely needing much amendments, others, solid orangy ugly clay, so back to the shed, to load up a wheel barrow. Amendments are really heavy.
Finally, the chore is done and the last tool is put away; it's 8:30 at night.
This morning, I realize the moment my eyes open, it would be a good idea to plan how to get out of bed, because just being awake hurts, hurts like every where. I wish I were exaggerating to make the story better, which I would totally do, but that is not the case. Trying to make the fewest grunts and groans possible, so dh does not wake with the thought he needs to replace me with a younger woman, I rise, and realize that standing is so much worse than getting out of bed was. I waddle down the hall, realizing it is going to be a slow morning. Making breakfast is immediately ruled out, and as I reach up for the Cocoa Puffs ( I deserve them, I worked hard) I am made aware of a whole separate set of muscles from my arms and all through my ribs, every little muscle, (gosh there are so many); that are also crabby as hell. Still having some shred of vanity, I refuse to let dh see how ridiculously sore I am from all our work, I keep each ache to myself, knowing it will pass in a day or so. I sit to enjoy my Cocoa Puffs and am made aware of a screaming bicep thru each and every bite, I must have picked out a really heavy spoon this morning. I rise to shower. As I am almost out of dh view, ready to hold the wall for support, he says, "Hey, your walking like an old lady this morning."
Damn it.
I pretend I did not hear him and waddle to the shower.
Oh, yard work is a good work out.
