Friday, July 17, 2009


My husband loves working outside. Must be a man thing. I'd rather be inside where there are no bugs and an air conditioner. He cuts the grass and comes to one of the windows outside my office and waves at me. I smile, take him cool water and yell at him for working so hard. That day started pretty much the same. Only he was working at his brothers house, just across the street. In fact, I can see their yard from my office. His plan was to fill in a few spots where grass doesn't seem to be growing. He bought about 20 bags of fill dirt to do the job. Somehow, he forgot the back door of the van was still up and Stevie Wonder backed into the garage door, knocking it off the track. He called me to come over and help him fix it, probably thinking about one of his old girlfriends who used to pump iron. I walked over and found him inside the garage covered with sweat. I said, "you need to call someone to help you fix this, or better yet, call someone to fix it." He yelled, "I can do anything I put my mind to, now don't hurt your back, but can you lift it up over on that corner? I stood glaring at him. He pushed and I tried to guide it, but half of it fell across the ladder he was standing on. When he got off the ladder, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "let's go home, I need to get the phone book." The guy came this afternoon to fix their garage door!

No comments: