He did what?

Hilarious quote of the day:

"My dad threw his back out once, doing armpit farts."
-CB

Perspective

Family Conversation before my friend Rose arrived on Sunday:

Me: "I've been cleaning all day and finished everything but the dusting, since I don't have any more energy would one of you mind doing that for me?"

Husband: "Rose is pretty short so we don't really need to dust any of the high places, right?"

Me: No words are necessary with the look that I give him.

Husband: Flashes that adorable grin which always follows a smart alec comment.

Me: "Oh and can someone please clean the mirror above the fireplace?"

Daughter: "Really? It doesn't look dirty to me. How's Rose's eyesight?"

Kids And Their Toys...

Irene's post regarding her son and his mutiliation of toys brought to mind my days of playing with Barbie's. When my step-sisters and I had our 'Peyton Place' at the Barbie Beach House.

One year I was the unfortunate recipient of a 'Quick-Curl Francie doll' for my birthday. I'd love to share a picture so I looked on ebay, but all I could find was Francie's dress because, well... because there can't possibly be a 'Quick Curl Francie doll' left on the face of the earth that even remotely resembles a Barbie per se. The only way to keep this babes hair intact would be to never even attempt to remove her from the original package and kids who are capable of that kind of restraint just don't deserve a doll nor the title of 'Kid'.

Here's Francie's Dress:

I did locate this 'Quick Curl Barbie' photo and you can just tell by the look on her face, she's mighty pissed about the bad hair day she's had to put up with since 1974.

However, in comparison to my 'Quick Curl Francie' this chick has the hair of a goddess. For you see, 'Quick Curl' meant that Barbie's regular synthetic hair was infused with wire so you could roll it around the little plastic phallyic symbol (shown above) and like a 'Vidal Sassoon' curling iron it would viola' hold the style. Try it more than once though and the wire kinked beyond belief 'til all you had was a medusa thing going on.

Unlike Barbie, who as we all know is eternally perky and was blessed with the shape of no other woman on earth, with the exception of maybe Pam Anderson... Francie was the poor underdeveloped cousin who would spend the whole of her life loathing that bitch Barbie. I mean, shouldn't their familial genes at least play some part in HER womanly growth... Yeah, their faces looked almost exactly alike but the boobs... Where were the boobs? Poor Francie got short-changed in the mammory department. So, what's a girl to do who's hair has gone way beyond the stage of 'Bride of Frankenstein' and can't fill anyone's clothes except for little 'Skipper' and only the blouses at that. I'll tell you what she does... She goes Butch!

I wish I had pictures of poor Francie with her shaved, barely there hair and her less than feminine attire as she ended up barrowing most of her oversized clothes from Ken. Alas, in those days the idea of a phone with the capability of taking actual photos and sending them via airspace was so H.G. Wells, we would've never thought it even conceivable. We just kept holding out hope that one day we'd be able to watch movies while on long car trips... 'Cause I mean, if they could put a man on the moon... Why couldn't I watch 'The Incredible Mr. Limpet' on my way to Grandma's in Podunk, Kansas? But I digress... So with the 'Outing' of our girl Francie, our little Barbie world got a WHOLE lot more interesting. If only the writers over at 'General Hospital' would've accepted our scripts I think we could've made their show so much more interesting.

Thanks Mattel for that whole Quick Curl idea... You have no idea the impact you made on my 10 yr. old world. I received my education on social dynamics via a world with 1 Ken, 3 Barbie's and a lesbian Francie.

Atlanta Rose

My dear friend Rose is in town for the first time in years! We've been SO busy catching up (even though we talk on the phone quite often), visiting with old friends, introducing her to my new friends, playing tennis, eating (so much for all that Hot Yoga) and shopping (finished decorating the office and I'm back into loving the shopping thing again), this is the first chance I've had to sit and even check e-mail.

It's impossible to put into words how wonderful it is to have Rose here... To be able to look her in the eye during a meaningful conversation instead of share an "I know! or "Uh-huh!" over a long-distance phone line. It's wonderful just to be able to reach over and give her arm a gentle squeeze of support or gratitude, as we discuss matters of the heart. There have been pauses in our converses but always comfortable pauses, as we've known one another for so long, roughly 18 yrs.

I've been searching for quotes from people more eloquent than I, regarding the friendship that Rose and I share. I haven't really found the perfect one yet but this one is close:

There's something beautiful about finding one's innermost thoughts in another.
-Olive Schreiner

or this:

True happiness consists not in the multitude of friends, but in the worth and choice.

-Ben Johnson

Rose is one of the wisest choices I've ever made.

A Really Disappointing Number

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Lessons Learned...

I've been see-sawing on whether to post pics and comments of my recent project. As you're about to see, I decided... What the hell! Other people brag about their accomplishments on their blogs. If they can do it, so can I... But I can also add comments regarding all the stupid mistakes I made whilst engaged in said project.

When I was young (got our first apartment to be exact), I began to fancy myself an interior decorator... Then once we got our first house I KNEW, what with all that slate blue and dusty rose splendor, I was bound to make my mark in the interior design world. Two other homes and a slew of years later, I was asked to decorate my first public space. It was kind of happen-stance... You know somebody for about 8 months, their husband just happens to purchase a new office space and would like it to look appealing and next thing you know (I mean I know), I'm taking measurements, checking out catalogs, talking to dealers and doing my best to appear professional AND more importantly trying to appear I know EXACTLY what I'm doing.

So here's some before and after pics and some lessons that I learned along the way:

Before:

After: Another Before:

Another After:
And the LAST Before: (I promise!)
Final After Picture:

So here's what I learned:

At the point when I really got going on the project I was doing research online and I came across a quote that went something like this: "People think Interior Decorating is a lot like what they see on HGTV, it's all about playing with color and filling a room with pretty things. When in fact the job of an Interior Decorator is roughly 3% making a room look pretty and 97% managing all the problems that arise while doing so." Anyone out there considering becoming an Interior Decorator? Do me a favor, cut and paste the previous quote, print it out on paper, put it in your wallet, then take it out every day and read it back to yourself. If in six months time you decide you still want to be an Interior Decorator, Go for it!

Problems I encountered:

Measurements and Math - I really don't know where I went wrong on my room layout, I think it had to do with my conversions from graph paper to actual square footage... And that I SUCK at math!... But when the desk arrived it didn't fit in it the space I had planned for it, nor did the credenza. A real honest to God decorator would've been thrown out on her keester. However, since my client is a friend he merely stood there and laughed as I tried to stave off the nervous breakdown I felt coming on. Seriously, I tried to remain professional and we discussed alternative layouts. I ran home to get the 'Moving Men' (furniture disks that aid in sliding pieces around a room) and when I returned everything was placed where you see it now... And you know what? I like it SO much more than my original floor plan. However, I still feel like such a mook and I'm not sure where my math took the terrible turn it did.

My other MAJOR measurement mistake took place early on in the project when I ordered the conference table you see in the room. Lovely isn't it? When I saw it online at overstock.com I just KNEW it would be perfect for the room. What I didn't know is the measurement I took with the tape measure as I stood next to and said, "Yeah, that's about right." Was not an ordinary table height. Why I didn't just turn to my right instead of my left with that damnedable tapemeasure is beyond me... Because I would've seen the measurement against my desk and realized that the Conference Table I was ordering was actually a pub height table. You know, for those taller bar-stool chairs? Definitly not Conference Table material. Of course I didn't realize this until it was assembled by the handyman at the office. Once again my "Client" laughed it off and gave me some time to figure it out. I am extremely fortunate to have a 'handy' husband who has entertained himself with woodworking as a hobby. Luckily the Mr. had the right tools to cut the legs down and re-drill the holes for the bolts. It was a painstaking task but I'm SO glad we were able to make the 'perfect' table work for the space. Since my husband is also 'crafty' he took the left-over table legs and made a kick-ass pen holder for my clients desk. I put his name plate on the front and on the back I made a plate that says "Shit Happens"... We gave it to him as a gift, which he got a huge kick out of and now proudly displays on his brand new desk.

Other things I learned - When the delivery guy says he can't deliver your 7 ft. 300 lb. fountain to the office on Main St. with his full size semi-truck... Don't try to strike a deal with him on a place to meet and transport it yourself... Just tell him, "It's late in the day, you shouldn't have any problems getting your rig and parking it on that narrow one-way street... People do it ALL the time!" After the second phone call, that's what I did and we got the fountain delivered without any problems. Best of all no tickets were issued.

Never use the cheap hardware they give you with curtain rods - Always have your own molly bolts and screws or else the rod is going to tear right out of the wall when you go to hang that curtain. It did, the holes were patched and now you can't tell there was ever a problem.

Size Matters - When you buy a big tree for an office space that just about reaches the ceiling once you put in a pot and on casters... Pray that it doesn't grow!... At least not very fast anyway.

Shopping 'til you Drop - Just because you have someone else's credit card number, the shopping gets to be a little tedious. You can't always find the perfect piece you had pictured in your mind. The one you thought you saw somewhere but now you can't find it anywhere you look... Maybe you just imagined that perfect piece and they never really made anything like it in the first place. Just make DO!

Troubleshooting & Delegating - When the handyman runs into you after having set up the $1250 waterfall and tells you that it's spraying water across the room, keep your head, grab your handy son and give him the problem to fix... You needn't have worried that he wouldn't come through with the solution.

Patience is a Virtue - Be prepared to wait 6 weeks for a desk to be delivered... And when it does arrive be very wary of the 2 guys sent to install it who barely speak english. They may very nearly tear your brand new desk and credenza apart trying to uncrate it and get it into the room.

What goes IN, MUST come OUT - When your client points out to you that he really likes the fact there's a grommet in his desk to run cords into, don't freak out when he also points out that there's absolutely no place in or around the desk to run said cords 'OUT' to the outlet. And when you call the guy who sold you the expensive desk and ask him WT? and he replies with, "I can send the installers back out to drill a hole (in the brand new desk?), but it'll cost you." Try your best to remain calm so you don't sound like a blathering idiot saying stuff like, "We just spent a great deal of money with you..." I don't recall much more than that as my head was ready to fly off of my neck and splatter against the wall on the far side of the room.

Remain Calm & Re-Evaluate - Once you have become sufficiently calm from said desk fiasco ie. size, installation, cord hole?... Allow your children to tell you how awesomely awesome you are for taking on this whole job. Call the company that makes the desk so they can tell you that all you need to do is raise the casters on the bottom for the cords to run out, rather than cutting into the desk. Allow your client to tell you he's happy with the results and not to sweat the small stuff... And stand back, take a moment to take a look at what you've created, think about what you've learned and realize how much you've grown from the whole experience... Then pat yourself on the back for a job... well, Done... And vow to NEVER take on a decorating project EVER again!

What is it with my head?

I have so many clips and bands and barrettes and various pieces of headgear to hold my long curly hair back I could single handedly take down the 'Goody' hair accessory company if I quit buying the stuff and just decided to let my hair look like crap! Well, actually it does look like crap because I can't ever get items to work on my head like they do for other beautiful people.

So what is it with my head? Is it mishapen? When I put a stretchy hair band on I'd like to look like this:

or this:

But instead I end up looking more like this:

And if I forgo hair clips completely I look like this... And this is NO exaggeration:

So come on, what's the deal? Is it just me? Are there others out there like me who share this malady? Am I doomed to a life of 'doofus' hair? Or perhaps I just haven't found the perfect accessory yet?

Microsoft Surface Parody

Just because Microsoft can be so damn pretentious.

A Fond Farewell to 'Hot Yoga'

I gave it up... 'Hot Yoga' that is.

Why, you ask?

Allow me to explain...

After my last scheduled class on Wednesday, I was reminded that it is encouraged students attend classes in between the regularly scheduled course. Knowing it would be a good 5 days before the next regularly scheduled class, I decided I'd better keep myself limber and take one of the filler classes. Since BNB's (Brand New Beginner Classes) are only offered on Monday's and Wednesday's, every other filler class is for the Experienced or Mostly Experienced yoga student. So the class I attended on Saturday morning is what's known as the SS class or Stationary Sequence. The following is a description:

Stationary Sequence - This class is great for those who have taken the BNB. This class is a full body sequence for beginners (yeah right!) to advanced practitioners focused on developing good alignment while fostering deeper levels of concentration (masochism).

Allow me to explain that the BNB classes involve a lot of stopping, 'learning' a position and then applying what you've learned. So, your doing roughly 50 minutes of yoga during the 1 and 1/2 hour session and the rest of the time you're watching a really thin, unbelievably agile instructor perform the next position correctly. SS class on the other hand is constant, no holds barred, get your ass in gear, non-stop yoga... And we're talkin' KILLER positions we beginning hadn't learned yet. But that's okay, I was game, I wasn't aware... After all the description said "for beginngers." I went in there with a winning attitude, having experienced a rather positive yoga experience on Wednesday evening. I even entered the 100 degree room a good 5 minutes before class began so I could relax and 'Find my center.'

Since the class began at 9:30 in the morning and being diabetic I HAD to make sure I ate something before I went. Hmmmm? What to eat that would carry me through the physical extreme of 'Hot Yoga', but not be too heavy? I knew jell-o wouldn't cut it so I had my usual bowl of oatmeal with cinnamon, splenda brown sugar and skim milk (I decided to for go my regular cup of tea as it might be too much.) Not a lot of food, just enough to keep me from a crashing sugar low. Needless to say, halfway through SS, it was all I could do to keep my breakfast intact and not spewed all over my sweaty yoga mat. This is what the 'Helpful Hints' handout they gave us at our first class suggests:

Try to stay in the hot room. In the beginning it is tempting to want to leave the hot room. However, it is better if you stay. With your first few classes you are awakening and stimulating every system in your body. This is amazing, but can be a little scary too. You may feel light headed from all the blood pressure changes and even nausea from the flushing of toxins from your system. These sensations will pass with a few classes. Listen to your body and simply go into child's pose for as long as you feel necessary.

I don't know, it must've been roughly an hour and 10 minutes into the class I went into child's pose and mentally, I think I'm still there. I was sucking air to keep from hurling my 'Quaker Oats' across the sweat laden tile floor. Here's another part of the 'Helpful Hints' handout I'd like to share:

It's normal to feel certain emotions during yoga class. This yoga is very powerful and works on many different levels to heal us. You may even feel the sudden urge to cry at what seems to be an inappropriate time when really the opposite is true. Your body holds emotional energy on a cellurlar level. The stress of this emotional energy in your body can cause disease and illness. The practice of yoga is releasing this trapped energy to cleanse and heal the body and mind.

Whilst struggling to keep my breakfast down, sweating profuse buckets of perspiration and trying to get into a pose I found physcially impossible, I began to lose it... Not the pose, but my composure. This is the point when I grabbed my hand towel, buried my face in it, went into child's pose and wept. I tried desperately not to sob for fear of embarrassing myself beyond all reason, but I'm almost positive the perfectly toned, oh so bendy blonde next to me heard the high pitched whines I tried so hard to supress. Thankfully, her face seemed to hold the same distant detached look with which she entered the room. However, I'm pretty sure that 2 hours later over her green tea at Starbuck's she had a good laugh with several equally bendy, cute blonde friends about the chubby woman keening next to her during what would've been another relatively boring yoga class.

After a while even 'Child's pose' got to be uncomfortable. I made half-hearted attempts at other poses but by that point my breakfast was near the halfway point in my throat and I knew my days of hot yoga were numbered. So I rolled onto my back and willed myself to stop crying, not leave the room and above all not lose my breakfast.

When class at last came to it's blissful end I walked with quivering legs and pale face out to the blessed coolness of the lobby. I sat and tried to recover somewhat. The instructor came by and told me I did great for my first SS... They're paid to tell you stuff like that so you'll come back.

When I got home I took a shower (duh!)... Every article of clothing touching my hair or skin was soaked. After my shower it was all I could do to pull on my underwear and bra. I collapsed in the chair in my room still trying to shake off the nausea. I dozed briefly before my daughter suggested I finish getting dressed and lay down for a nap. My sweet angel brought me a large glass of water and closed the bedroom doors so I could sleep. After sleeping for an hour or so, I realized both my hands were still numb since the class... Since I didn't think numb hands are the sign of a 'Good' workout I began to wonder if maybe this 'Hot Yoga' thing could be detrimental to my health? The nauseous feeling that followed me the rest of the day was probably another sign.

Today I called my endochronologist and spoke with the nurse about the symptoms I encoutered post 'Hot Yoga'... I was encouraged to quit. She said, "Yoga IS a good form of exercise but yoga that makes you sick, lethargic and numb is not recommended."

So, Goodbye 'Hot Yoga'... You kicked my ass!
Hello my 'Yoga for Dummies - DVD'... How 'bout we make a standing date for my bedroom floor at least 3 times a week? I think I can take you on and I've got a sweat stained yoga mat to prove it!

Hot Yoga - Night #2

I know I keep referring to it as 'Hot Yoga' when it's really known as 'Bikram Yoga' but truth be told, there's just no other way to adequately describe it. Imagine doing regular yoga and really 'digging in' in order to hold a position. You sweat right? Now imagine it in a 99-100 degree room. We're talking 'Sweat-O-Rama'! Last night I wore a fitted cotton t-shirt that was quite literally hanging on me by the time I got home. After Hot Yoga my hair looks a lot like it does right AFTER I get out of the shower except all that water? It's pure sweat! Because of all the sweat it's difficult not to slide around on your yoga mat during the workout so I'm happy the instructor made the suggestion to bring a towel to place on the mat to prevent slipping. Problem is, you have to carry all that back out to your car AFTER the workout and believe me, After Hot Yoga you'd best be careful because a light rain or a slight breeze will take you down. Well, maybe not everybody, but most certainly ME.

Last night our instructor informed us that he would be travelling to Aspen, Colorado to teach yoga at a retreat. He told us we'd have other excellent instructors taking his place. He also informed us that he is, "The Santa Claus of Yoga." Meaning if we don't show up for class he'll be able to look into his crystal ball/computer and see who's not giving it their best effort. Oh, I wish he hadn't said that. I'm such a stupid freakin' people pleaser that I'm going to be obsessing over any missed classes. I know of one I won't be able to make due to other plans and I'm already worried about when I'll be able to go in to make it up. I am exceedingly proud to report though, that I received not one but two 'Atta Girl's!' last night. Neither instructor had to come over and adjust my stance at any point and Steve actually said, "Good job Marge....E!" I fairly beamed because not only did he get my name right but hey, I was actually doing this crap correctly... And busting my ass doing it!

Today I'm really sore again, lower back and across my shoulders mostly. I didn't have that powerful 'sleep of the dead' last night, which I find disappointing... But in some sick twisted way I might just be enjoying this thing called Yoga. Not to a huge extent mind you, because my favorite part of it is still, and probably always will be, when it's over!

Poetry in Motion

The other day when my daughter and I were engaging ourselves in the joys of landscaping we encountered a minor accident. Well, I had the accident but it involved my husbands car.

I was conscientously putting away all of our tools and hung the rake on the rack located on the garage wall. The 'rake rack' is located just above the spot for our trash can. I hung the rake and then I brought in the empty can from the street. It's a rather tight area with my husbands car in the garage. So I shimmied the can back and forth in order to fit it into it's nesting place. What I didn't notice was as I shimmied the can was lifting the rake handle off the rack which resulted in the rake crashing down, thankfully not on my head but instead against my husbands car.

It doesn't look too noticeable but where there was once a lovely sleek surface, there now resides two dents with a little of the grey paint chipped out. I knew my husband wouldn't be happy, who would? So instead of just going up to his office and breaking it to him, I decided to write him a little poem... It went something like this:

When cleaning up,
mistakes I'll make.
I'm sorry I dented
your car with the rake.

My husband snickered slightly when I gave him the note. Then he looked up at me and said, "No really, You dented my car?" To which I replied, "I don't make this stuff up for fun." He wasn't mad because hey, it's not like I pulled a 'Carrie Underwood'... I just had an accident and accidents happen... So does bad poetry.

Because this made me smile and brought a tear to my eye too!

Thanks for sharing Lime... Here's a HUG for you! :-)

It's Yoga and It's HOT!

So last night was my first 'Bikram (HOT) Yoga' class. It started at 7:30, I arrived at 7:45... I was hoping I'd be too late but being the first night of the session it took a while to get everyone signed in so I was right on time... Lucky me!

Having completed my first HOT Yoga class I came away with 3 things and they are:

1. I didn't realize ankles sweat.

2. It really doesn't matter what you look like when you do yoga in a group. Everyone is so into getting their own pose correct they could care less what you're doing. Except for the instructor but he's supposed to make sure you're positioned right. And man, do you want to please that guy... Not because he intimidates you but because he's kinda cute and you want to look like the best damn Yoga Guru you possibly can... Although, there are some positions that are just plain impossible for this body. For instance, laying on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and crossing my arms over my knees, then grabbing each elbow. This may be an easy task for a 'skinny' girl... A chubby girl, not so much! Perhaps I'll grow longer arms before the session ends?

3. Post Bikram Yoga sleep is the best damn rest you'll ever know. Lately I've been an insomniac. Just the night before last I couldn't shut my brain down until well after 2:00am. So many concerns about the design project I'm working on spin through my head throughout the day and as soon as I hit the pillow all the details begin to make me anxious. Last night however, I was out before I even settled into a comfortable position. However, because of all that water I was drinking I woke suddenly twice during the night with a powerful urge to go. Usually I wake slowly and kind of decide whether it's indeed necessary to head to the bathroom. Not last night! Last night it was WAKE UP & GO! Then head back to bed and fall back into that deep wonderful sleep immediately after the head hits the pillow.

It goes without mentioning that I'm a little sore today. Mostly my back, legs and upper arms (probably from trying to grab the elbows that were wrapped around me knees) but maybe, just maybe, I feel kinda good. Kinda like I did something nice for myself, for this body that although I don't take very good care of it, it takes good care of me. I can't say I'm 'Looking Forward' to my next class tomorrow night (ugh!) but I'm no longer filled with anxiety about the horrors of sweating my guts out. Nor am I thrilled with the idea of the pain associated with holding a position that makes every muscle in my body scream, "What the HELL do you think you're doing woman?" What I am looking forward to is the post yoga experience. The worn out high I felt and another terrific nights sleep.

That new spot in our yard...

I'm not too shy to admit that I have many talents. However, there a two things at which I suck BIG time... Sewing and Landscaping. Really anything to do with yard work except for possibly the occassional lawn mowing is more than I wish to attempt. More often than not I spend my time envying the nicely landscaped yards of others and return to my own home filled with disappointment at its lack of lustre. In a world of 'Paris Hilton' lawns, mine is sadly the 'Amish Wife'. It's well maintained but nothing really pops!

Enter my friend LB. In the 2 yrs. she's lived in her home on the river, she's taken a plain jane grass expanse and turned into horticulture central. There's the fresh herbs growing between unique varities of plants. There's the area set aside for the rose garden with several varities and colors of roses entiwined around a lattice archway and a stone bench for just sitting and admiring the surrounding beauty. There are trees here and there, some with buds, all with beautiful leaves. And as you approach the front door to your left is a gorgeous pond with large goldfish and trickling fountain.

Yesterday LB, my daughter and I went nursery hopping. It's hard not to be with LB at a nursery and not get caught up in the possibilities. It would be absolutely impossible to drag my dear friend away from a nursery without a plant or tree or 5 or 6 something or others under each of her arms just waiting for the opportunity to burst forth in all their grandeur somewhere in her yard. So, I did it! I foolishly thought that I too could turn my little plot of nothing into something spectacular. Using my daughter, who seems to enjoy such pursuits as planting and watering as my excuse, I purchased $72 worth of decorative grasses and peat moss for our yard. Last night was spent figuring out where to plant it all. After the idea of making a special plot in the backyard was nixed we found ourselves right smack dab in the middle of the front yard forming a plot around our only tree of which I have no idea what brand or origin from which it hails.

After a mostly sleepless night and a 6:15am wake-up call from the dj on my clock radio reminding me that there's a heat warning in effect today, I somehow managed to propel myself from my mattress and made my way down the hall to my daughters room to encourage her to start our project before it got too hot. She tried to push me off until tomorrow but I reminded her that she has plans for Tuesday and I'll be damned if I'm going to allow our precious grasses to perish in the garage.

With shade from our house still covering the front lawn from the morning sun, my daughter and I with shovels in hand began the chore of clearing away the grass. Sounds so easy doesn't it? Clearing sod with a shovel. Let me explain how the first 30 seconds of our project went down. I was the first to try pushing my shovel into the thick grass. The resistance I met was SO great, I might as well have been digging up concrete. So my daughter decided to give it a try next. With exacting force she kicked against the shovel, only to have it sit in the same spot and delve no deeper into the soil. So, being young and filled with more energy than I was able to muster she lept into the air and slammed both feet against the shovel, only to have the damp soles of her shoes meet the smooth metal of the shovel thus sending her sailing backward and slamming down on the ground where her back met the metal edge of the shovel I had previously tossed aside. Oh man, did I feel bad... But my daughter felt worse. She's got a slight cut across her back to prove it.

After a brief stint of almost giving up, we went inside to compose ourselves. When we came back out it was with a new found strength and a definitive purpose. Come hell or high water we were gonna tear that grass out and realize the dream of a lovely landscape with ornamental grasses. 3 hrs. later that's just what we achieved... Well, not quite. We eventually cleared all the sod, with some help from my husband who's working from home today. Thankfully there were no other incidents involving pain except for the ones currently residing in my hands, legs, arms and back. We haven't planted our ornamental grasses yet but they're prettily perched in a wagon which sits just inside our giant (seems like 40 acres) sod free plot surrounding our tree of unknown heritage. At some point we're going to have to go out there and dig some holes and throw in some peat... But for now we'll just sit back and admire our effort. Oh, and we're trying to reach LB by phone today so we can let her know we've uncovered a nice plot in which to place her body after we kill her... Because she makes it all look SO damn easy!