If the yardwork doesn’t kill you, apparently your scarf will.

Um… yeah.

So today Grandpa had a funeral to do with the color guard, and we thought we were released from projects. Alas, such optimism was really a trick as there was… edging to do.

Fifteen years worth of edging, to be precise, not that Grandpa mentioned that when setting us to work with the edger. It didn’t want to go, and Mom was definitely struggling with it. I would say that I sort of had the easier job in that I went and got a broom and swept the grass up behind her, except I got my blister first and it took the skin off my hand right where I need to hold to crank the Maxwell.

(Incidentally, I did that later, cranked the Maxwell. It started for me first time… but I couldn’t feel my arm afterward. Fun times.)

Anyway… the edging was a slow moving process. We only managed to get part of it done before both Mom and I were wiped and even with the easier job, I was way too hot and getting migrainy. So we called it for now to be resumed at a later time.

Still, having run short of my stuff for my migraines, I wanted to go get some before we headed to New London, and to that end, I tossed a scarf on over my tank top to cover the grease stains on my shoulders that I got putting the Maxwell in the trailer and as we were leaving, I walked out the door and my scarf got caught, trapping me on the step. It didn’t want to come loose without opening the door up completely, and even then it tried to catch again.

And again when I got in the car.

See? If the yardwork doesn’t get you…