I’m not mowing this morning because it is too wet. Not complaining here, because a couple of summers ago, I opened the door every morning to really hot (by Indiana standards) temperatures. The kind where you open the door and then close it. It was real good sweating weather.
I may or may not attempt to transplant some ferns from LaGrange to this place. Yes, my life is that dull, which given my level of motivation is not all that bad.
I finished powerwashing half of my driveway today. I did the garage last week. I still have the house and the front half of the driveway to go. It makes my arms sore. And I get wet. Very wet. Not sweat wet, just wet, dirty mud wet. Who knew that a concrete driveway could hold so much dirt and sand in it? Perhaps I should wash it more often than every 8 years….
Ah, so much energy, and you have been working with a physical trainer . . . hmmm, Rose, Guido and I are thinking about, oh, kidnapping. Rats, Rose just stressed that her part of the “thinking” was “NO, NO.” That darn Rose and her ethics.