I really hate weeding.

It’s not that I don’t feel a sense of accomplishment afterward, or that I dislike working outside. It’s more that there’s bugs that always bite me, and poison ivy and oak that give me rashes, and strange flurries of little flying creatures who don’t so much bite as simply annoy with their high-pitched whines. Occasionally, yes, something big will dive-bomb my head, but I now know how to fend him off: a really tight-fitting shower cap over a soft hat does double duty: bugs can’t penetrate, and no one will speak to you under any circumstances, because you look insane.

However, I would like to note that if I even suspected I’d receive a reward like this after a day (after an hour!) spent working in my half-wild yard, it sure would make the task easier:


One can only hope.


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