My holiday weekend was okay, thanks. And yours?
Saturday I did all my usual Saturday chores, did my workout, and then went to a party in the evening. It was a perfectly pleasant party--lovely people in the lovely backyard of the lovely home of some lovely friends--but it kind of made me feel old. The party was meant, in part, to be something of a throwback to the yearly Memorial weekend party held by one of the co-hosts "back in the day." Now THOSE were some parties. People pitched tents in the backyard, and partied most of the weekend. A whole lot of raucous drinking was done, and very little sleeping. Of course, that was 15-20 years ago, and we were all a bit younger. (Ahem.) Contrast that with this weekend's party--all of us sitting sedately in lawn chairs, watching children catch fireflies, sipping beverages and snacking, music playing lightly in the background. Lovely. But middle-aged. As we are now, I suppose. Sigh. The bonus, of course, is that there's no hangover to contend with the next day. Glass half full! (Of course, it's probably half full because I'm too old and tired to finish it, but whatever.)
Sunday I went to church, where I actually managed to exchange more than the usual four words ("Peace be with you") with Cute Church Guy, though they were hardly the display of sparkling wit I would have liked. We joked about lawn mowing. Kill me now.
Sunday evening I launched into some way overdue tree limb and shrub trimming. Don't tell me I don't know how to have a festive holiday weekend! That wild fun continued Monday morning, as I actually managed to get out at 7:30 a.m. (yes, that's IN THE MORNING) to finish pruning back the really, really overgrown privet. I had to use one of those extended lopper thingies with the rope you pull to close the blade (yes, I'm good with the gardening implement jargon, aren't I?) and by the time I was done my neck and shoulder muscles were screaming at me. Those things aren't easy to use, are they? Holding a long, heavy pole (oh baby...now we're getting somewhere...oh wait, no we're not) over your head with one hand while simultaneously jerking (oh baby...oh wait, still not) the rope handle with your other hand, hard enough to cut the dang branch...yeah, that's my idea of a good time. NOT. I was almost ready to take my neighbor up on his offer to trim it for me with his chainsaw. Okay, not really. There are few things I dislike more than the look of shrubbery that's been trimmed with a chainsaw! In my opinion, if God had meant for shrubs to be square with sharp edges, they'd grow that way. (Not that I wouldn't prefer at least one Bush to be a little sharper, but this post isn't about our President.)
Monday afternoon a friend and I partook of the lunch buffet at my favorite Indian restaurant, after which I took a nap. I had every intention of mowing the lawn (using that time to craft new witticisms on the subject to wow Cute Church Guy with next week, no doubt), but a late afternoon thunderstorm changed that plan, so I was forced to substitute the nap. (Aw, shoot!)
And that was my Memorial Day weekend. I could have used another day or two or twelve, but it was alternately productive and restful, so I guess I can't complain.
Maybe next Sunday I can solicit Cute Church Guy for some tips on how best to safely handle an overly long pole. What?