Why is it that on the weekdays I decide to stay home; whether it is to sleep off a cold, nurse a hangover, work on my tan, or just bum out on a personal day, the landscapers seem to be working that day? As my reward for staying home, I get to revel in the metal machinery chopping thousands of weeds at a time, the debris kicking up at my door, the blower howling, the clacking of the weed wacker, the smell of gas, the idling vibrating sounds of the machinery, the noise of chattering voices all round, oh and my favorite is my dog barking intensely and incessantly when they get too close to our property. Aren't I glad I stayed home?
Before I go, let me leave you with this:
My left hamstring is as tight as a pair of jeans 2 sizes too small on a woman bending down. Can you visualize the jeans ripping at the seams...lol? Gotta get back to my pilates!