Yesterday I used a hoe. I wanted to get some flowers in the ground: perennials that hopefully will outlast me. I worked incredibly hard to till the smallest bed, because what do we have in this part of Cackalacky? At least at my house we have clay. Dense, red clay.
Consequently today I am sore. I mean really sore. So sore, in fact, that if I was in a bank right now, and the bank were robbed, and everyone was ordered to stick 'em up?
I'D HAVE TO HOPE THE BANK ROBBER WOULD SETTLE FOR JAZZ HANDS, BECAUSE I CAN'T LIFT MY ARMS.
Research your own