There’s a ‘big trash pickup’ one day each month. You’ve planned to move this stuff from the back yard to the curb a day or two before, decide to do it yesterday because it’s supposed to rain today & tomorrow, so it goes like this:
Get home, check on dog, change.
Start hauling limbs and stuff around.
Halfway through, notice there’s a couple of branches that’ve grown- a lot- and are too close to the lines, so…
Out comes ladder, loppers and saw.
Spend time waving in breeze in trees, cutting limbs and getting them to ground.
Climb down, haul the last of the old and the new stuff out front.
Find some more stuff that needs to go.
Look for dog. Did she go out? No, she’s snoozing under that bush.
Notice part of yard needs mowing, do that.
Decide some weedeating needs to be done before rain, drag the ‘eater and cord out.
Realize A: I’m hungry and B: it’s later than you thought.
Put everything away.
Realize that plan to ride bicycle to library and auto parts store is out, use motorcycle.
Get all that done, go online and find that Stephen King is not only a so-so author, he’s an arrogant little pissant. Probably gets along very well with John Effin’ Kerry.
That leaves about an hour to work on a reloading problem, after which to hell with everything else, get cleaned up, get a drink and then go to bed. I STILL haven’t finished watching Hot Fuzz, the disc of which I bought a freakin’ month ago.
That was yesterday, this evening considerably slower since I got all that crap done. So I shall now proceed to load up some more of those plastic bullets for further testing.