Saturday, March 27, 2010
I'm so tired...
I'm so tired,
I'm so sore,
I ain't gonna do it for a nickel no more.
Fifteen cents is my price,
for a quarter, I'll do it twice.
Do you ever wonder where in tarnation things are filed in our brains? A guy I dated in high school would recite this in a sing-song fashion and laugh at himself every time. (I'm glad I met and married Mr. A instead. :D )
Anyway, I am so tired, and it's highly possible I'm going to be so sore...but not from shining shoes...from pruning crepe myrtles, tea olives, lantana, bridal wreath, flowering crabapples, seven sisters roses. Additionally, Mr. A pruned pines and Bradford pears. I hauled the trimmings from all into the woods, a decent trek from any given point A when one is working on nearly seven acres. When I typed out the list of plants and trees we pruned, it sounds like a lot, but it doesn't look as lush as it sounds. All that is spread over seven acres and it still looks piteously sparse around here.
I also spent time preparing pots for plants, emptying soil from which the nutrients have been drained. I toted a few plants from Mr. A's shop where they spent this awful winter to their destinations on the back deck and front porch. I can't lift the rest, so I will bribe the 19-year-old who sleeps and showers here to move them. I'll offer him a job paying $20 an hour and tell him if he completes in under an hour, I'll still pay an hour's wage. It works every time.
I won't be paid a nickel, fifteen cents or a quarter, but the rewards in beauty will bring dividends all spring and summer.
Mr. A bought some loppers with a ratchet thingy inside which made the pruning easier, still we are beat.
Tired is good. I'm not complaining. I will sleep like a baby tonight.
And I'm looking happily forward to much more of this type work. I hate winter. Did you hear me? I HATE WINTER! You won't hear me complain about the south Georgia heat!
But I am tired.