Oh the pain…

I decided to devote one of my days off after Easter cleaning up an area in the garden I’ve been meaning to sort out since Billy was a pup (that’s Australian for a really long time). It involved barrow loads of rocks – these are rocks I inherited from my mother – the Jones women are strange – we collect stuff – in bulk – and then store it so no one else can have it. After my mother died, I took all the rocks – and there was a lot – back to my place with the intention of making a rock type garden. This I did about 10 years ago. Now I’m sick of it hence the wheeling of barrow loads of rocks around my yard thinking, as I’m doing it, “where do I put all these bloody rocks?” Needless to say I found places and once more, no one else can have them.

Anyway, then I had this barren rock free area. My plan was to dig up all the dirt and then lay an assortment of pavers down. I have lots of odd pavers left over from projects. None of them match but then I’m not one to worry out coordinating stuff. So I started digging and discovered I needed a pick as the ground was really hard. Pick in hand, I started smacking away at the ground. Despite the flab, I’m pretty damn fit so pick and shoveling is no big deal for me. That is until I finished and decided to have lunch – a bowl of magnificent – if I say so myself and I do – vegetable soup that I made. I sat on the back steps and surveyed my Kingdom – well, Queendom I guess – and I realized one important thing. I should never have sat down as my body seized up and I started to feel pain all over as my body started to relax.

Oh the pain…whine…moan…bitch….

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