Psalm 103:2-3 Dear Lord, Thank you, Lord, for all you’ve done for me. Don’t let me forget that you are always blessing me whether I notice it or not. Thank you for forgiving my sins, and thank you for healing me. I trust you and love you, Lord. Amen 詩篇103:2-3 親愛なる主よ、 主よ、あなたが私のためにしてくださったすべてのことに感謝します。私が気づこうが気づくまいが、あなたはいつも私を祝福してくださっていることを、私に忘れさせないでください。私の罪を赦し、癒してくださってありがとうございます。主よ、あなたを信じ、あなたを愛します。 アーメン
Captain's Log, Supplemental
Captain Caffeine has been on crutches—he tore his Achilles tendon, it’s not bad, but he’s unable to put weight on his foot just yet.
The backyard had become the Amazon jungle. The Captain hates it when the grass—or, more accurately, the weeds become too long.
I admit, I was not a good wife. I did not want to have to clear away the chairs and buckets from the yard. I didn’t want to unlock that nasty garden tools shed that’s infested with spiders. I didn’t want to maneuver the lawn mower out.
The Captain tried valiantly to mow, since the lawn mower is electric and rather sturdy and he can lean on it. However, I finally decided he wasn’t going to give up or come to his senses, so I took over for him.
It’s a lot like vacuuming the carpet, except that instead of my seek-and-destroy mission to suck up every stray piece of dog hair, I had to flatten and raze the foxtails that had taken over the yard.
It wasn’t hard, but that mower is noisy. And it kicks up all kinds of little weed particles that got into my eyelashes and nose and mouth.
But I could understand the Captain’s feeling of satisfaction at seeing a nicely mown backyard. The dog enjoyed herself, running back and forth rather than weaving in and out of clumps of weeds.
Of course, now I’ve got a bit of hay fever and I’m a bit paranoid I won’t get all the grass out of my hair. But the backyard is mowed! That was my testosterone-induced good deed for the day.
Captain Caffeine has been on crutches—he tore his Achilles tendon, it’s not bad, but he’s unable to put weight on his foot just yet.
The backyard had become the Amazon jungle. The Captain hates it when the grass—or, more accurately, the weeds become too long.
I admit, I was not a good wife. I did not want to have to clear away the chairs and buckets from the yard. I didn’t want to unlock that nasty garden tools shed that’s infested with spiders. I didn’t want to maneuver the lawn mower out.
The Captain tried valiantly to mow, since the lawn mower is electric and rather sturdy and he can lean on it. However, I finally decided he wasn’t going to give up or come to his senses, so I took over for him.
It’s a lot like vacuuming the carpet, except that instead of my seek-and-destroy mission to suck up every stray piece of dog hair, I had to flatten and raze the foxtails that had taken over the yard.
It wasn’t hard, but that mower is noisy. And it kicks up all kinds of little weed particles that got into my eyelashes and nose and mouth.
But I could understand the Captain’s feeling of satisfaction at seeing a nicely mown backyard. The dog enjoyed herself, running back and forth rather than weaving in and out of clumps of weeds.
Of course, now I’ve got a bit of hay fever and I’m a bit paranoid I won’t get all the grass out of my hair. But the backyard is mowed! That was my testosterone-induced good deed for the day.
Comments
After 37 years of watching my Dad and numerous male friends mow my lawns I decided it was time I took on full independence and bought my first lawn mower. It's a lovely sense of achievement... worth a blog post for the both of us I think!!! Here's to girl power! :)
Camy
I'm still in awe that you avoided it for so many years.
I don't really like it. Mostly because of all the grass that got stuck in my hair!
Camy