Wow, what a beautiful Sunday morning! Partly cloudy here in Redding, with a little breeze. A hopeful tang of autumn in the air.
It was so nice that even I, the Giant Sloth, felt moved to go outdoors and do some — gulp! — yardwork.
We have three bushy rosebushes that are, I suspect, a scouting party for an alien planet. These innocuous “heirloom” roses with their simple, buttery-looking flowers grow like crazy, sending thorny “canes” in all directions, including out onto the concrete driveway. Apparently, they are seeking a place to repopulate and/or feed, and no plot of suburban landscaping can contain them.
I feel it is my duty as an Earthling to occasionally hack these thorny pods into submission. A breezy Sunday morning, 70 degrees, seemed perfect.
The good news: I survived the task. The rosebushes were chopped back into large gumdrop shapes. It only took an hour.
The bad news: I’d forgotten what humidity feels like. I was quickly reminded by the sting of sweat in my eyes.
Also, I made a mistake and tackled the job while both my offspring were out of town, which meant I had no one to do the sweeping-up required to fill one large wheelie bin with thorny alien parts. Usually, I make my sons do any job that requires bending over, but this time Mr. Creakyback was on his own.
Despite that, it felt really good to be outdoors, sweaty and scratched, accomplishing something in my Sunday-quiet neighborhood.
And I was finished in time for kickoff.
