Manual labor and I do not get along.
Me and shovels? We just don't mesh.
The blisters on my hands... not my friends.
I've decided that I was born to be royalty {who wasn't?}. I was born to be a queen, not a servant. I was born to have people wait on me hand and foot. My hands were made for crocheting, not shoveling rock. I am supposed to be sitting in the garden under a parasol, eating fabulous treats and reading poetry, not breaking my back trying to MAKE the garden. Alas, I am alone in this realization. And so, I continue to slave. Honestly, I haven't really done much. Unless you count spending 2 hours last night shoveling, raking, and unloading the wheelbarrow {which I think counts A LOT}. Most of the work has been by Matt and my dad, but isn't that how it should be? After all, I am royalty you know.
p.s. We're almost ready for sod!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
In Another Life....
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3 comments:
I hated the whole yard process..and now that it is done I still can't get myself to go out and pick weeds! One day, we won't have to do that stuff and we will be able to hire people to do it for us! Until then, keep truckin'!
I want to sit under a parasol with you eating bon bons. Yard work is for.....well, yard workers. I better go mow my lawn now.
Your yard is lookin' good. A while back we found that I actually AM royalty, CLOSE royalty, only 43 generations back or so which means I should at least get a token tiara, right? Paul had no such luck, although his ancestors did live in the same area. I just know deep down that they were my family's servants, so anytime you want to break out the parasol and bon bons, I'm right there with ya!
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go ahead....make my day.