Yesterday afternoon, Kimmie fed and played with Liberty while I attacked the rain forest in our front yard with a lawn mower.

Recent rains (read torrential flood waters) have transformed all grassy areas into swamp-like mush, but our yard has dried out enough that I was able to push the mower and only sink up to my ankles in the mud. What I did not realize was that the self-propulsion part of the lawn mower is not working. This means that I get to pull out my manly upper arm muscles (I keep them in the top drawer of my dresser) and wrestle the mower up and down the steep valley that leads into our ditch. Oh, and throw my back out.

We now have a beautifully manicured front lawn. Well, mostly. The machine ran out of gas about three quarters of the way through. And boy, was I ever glad! I looked like a garden statue water fountain with all of the perspiration (girls don't sweat) running in glistening rivulets from my forehead. (See, even that can sound beautiful! Just don't come close enough to smell me! :-)
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