Monday, June 27, 2005

I the work horse

The lot my parents live on is wooded and since they haven't lived in their house for much more than a year, getting the house rather than the yard in order has been the priority. They finally have most of the house under control so their attention has turned to the yard. One of my Dad's first big tasks has been to go through and clear out all the underbrush and small trees. Recently, he has walked the lot picking up all of the sticks littering the ground. He very neatly made several piles of sticks, sorting them by size. Now that he has the ground fairly litter free, he wants to take the sticks from the backyard up to the road where the city will come by and pick them up. The only problem with this is that there is about a fifty foot elevation difference between the backyard and the road and there are a damn lot of sticks.

He got the bright idea to go buy a baby pool and attach a rope to it, using it as a type of sled to drag the sticks up to the road. Of course being home, I have been recruited to be the brawn behind the operation and when he got home this afternoon, we started. He would load the pool up with as many sticks as would fit and I the work horse/mule would pull the pool up the hill through the backyard, across the lot and then up the S-curve driveway. We, no I made about ten trips to the road before a thunderstorm threatned to derail the entire operation and we called it quits for the day. We still have about a third left to do too.

I guess it's not all bad, at least now I don't have to feel too guilty when I ask for gas money to get me back to school.

I called the Scientist tonight like I told her I would last night. We had a nice chat, I told her about my trip and how and why it ended prematurely. She asked when I'd be back and I told her I'd be in town Thursday. Later, I suggested we do something at the end of the week when I get back. She suggested that she make dinner for me Thursday night after my work meeting. I gladly accepted. Bitchin.

Not only a fairly cool girl, but she's not afraid to cook for me, wants to see me the night I get back to town, and all of it was her idea. Double Bitchin.

4 Comments:

Blogger schmims said...

So you didn't go on the trip because you were hauling sticks? WTF? One word for you... BONFUCKINGFIRE.

Dude, she's cooking you dinner. You're so in. Now don't be a dumbass and forget the bottle of wine.

4:48 AM  
Blogger schmims said...

And don't bring Yellow Tail.

4:48 AM  
Blogger J said...

Ok, the sticks have nothing to do with why the trip was cut short. That's just a side project Dad decided we should work on since I was already home. I would have had to do the stick hauling anyway whether it had been yesterday or Wednesday when I was planning on being home.

Dad had been talking about buying a log chipper a few months back, I guess he decided against it. I did look at him at one point, around the fifth load or so and say, "So how is this better than buying a chipper?"

Good idea on the wine. To be honest I hadn't even thought of that, I'd be lost withoutya Schmims. So, no Yellow Tail, can I get a suggestion then?

5:40 AM  
Blogger schmims said...

Ravenswood California Zinfindale is my all time favorite. It a red, not that pink Berringers shit. Everyone who I have forced to try it loves it. Black Opal (especially the shiraz) and Robert Mondavi/Woodbridge are good. Spend $12-$20. Go to liquor store with a good selection and ask someone who works there for help.

5:06 AM  

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