I really enjoy working out in the yard most of the time. However, there is one chore that I absolutely loathe, and that is picking up fallen limbs and branches before I can mow the grass. For some reason, this really hits me in a bad place.

Today, when I got home from school, before I even went into the house, I decided to get rid of the branches and limbs that were in the front yard, so I could rev up the riding mower and get some serious cutting done. Then, I went over to the side yard where I had left the wheelbarrow, upside down, last fall.

Yes, I really hate picking up fallen limbs and branches, putting them in the wheelbarrow, and dumping them on the absolutely humongous brushpile we’re building in the back yard.

I especially hate this chore when I turn the wheelbarrow over and see this.

Oh, I’m not afraid of them. I just don’t want them to get in my house again.

And I didn’t poison, blind, or throw caustic acid on them this time, either. Nor did I set their den on fire, or blow it up from the inside.

But I do know where they live, and I’ll be back.

So then I cut some grass for about fifteen minutes until I ran out of gas.

I said a few naughty words, got my tests and my ugly 500-pound purse out of the van, and came inside.

The end.