Those of you with long memories will remember when our house tried to kill me. The longest lasting effect of this attempted home-icide was to give me a very painful back for a couple of weeks afterwards. I vowed then to always be careful, and to not have a repeat showing of this particular film because I already knew the ending and didn't like it. Alas, these vows sometimes slacken, all by themselves, simply via the continual application of time ....
Nipped out back on Sunday afternoon to spend a few minutes pulling Scotch Broom, a rabid weed that's growing like, well, a weed all across the western United States. Spring is a great time to help get on top of the problem because even quite sizable plants can be pulled out by hand while the ground is still wet, and that's exactly what I was off to do.
As I am sure you have now telegraphed, one particular specimen fought back. I pulled - hard - and twisted a little at the same time, when finally it gave up the struggle and came out; unfortunately, my back exhibited exactly the same behaviour.
Yesterday and today I am therefore paying the price. Actually, today I feel a bit better than I did on Monday but sitting, and its close cousin driving, remain as entries in the category of "things that are painful to do".
My fault, but it will at least serve to remind me not to forget how unpleasant this all is. Hopefully ...
No comments:
Post a Comment