The joy of sweat

We went for our morning constitutional--okay--our mid-day constitutional.  Ran into lots and lots of people we knew.  Came home.  Decided it was time to mow.  But wait--the retaining wall to the north looked terrible--weeds and quack grass abounded.  Nice day, says I.  So on my hands and knees, I attack the problem.  Observation--quack grass has to be the most opportunistic weed I have ever encountered.  Give it a start and it spreads and grows proliferously.  (My dictionary says that's not a word.  It is now!)  Be that as it may, pulling weeds against a whitish wall in the middle of the day can be somewhat dehydrating.  By the time I was done, I'm sure my bodily fluids had depreciated significantly.  (They must have--that's the longest I have gone without peeing for years!)  It looked marvelous!  On to the mowing.  This was, unfortunately a diagonal day.  You know the drill.  Mow 1--vertical.  Next mow--horizontal.  Third mow--well that was today.  This particular event brings out in me the only anal-retentive policy by which I abide.  The angle has to remain the same in both yards I mow.  This means going over the sidewalk and the driveway a significant number of times.  Result--significant increase in time spent.  More sweat.  When I finish the front and side yards, I take time to replenish liquids.  Two liters later, and the entire yard is done.  Drenched, I head for indoors and the air conditioner.  Heaven.  Time to shower.  But first, I must blog.  And as I sit here, reconstituted, refreshed, and feeling something like a slat lick, I realize I feel good.  The yards look good.  A little sweat in this case yielded a wonderful result.  And I celebrate the fact that I can weed, I can mow, and I can sweat!