Feeling It ... All Over

We had buckets of rain over the past few days. For me, that means puttering around the house - vacuuming, organizing, paying bills ... spending four hours tearing the place apart looking for my car title so I can take it to DMV and clear it (seriously - a year after I paid it off). Today, though, a sunny, warmer day, I've gone back to the garden - well, the yard, anyway. Faced with squishy grass and muddy pools where dirt used to be, I decided to forgo the beds and edge the lawn. It's taken me three hours. So far.

Three hours.

Part of that absurd total I can attribute to laziness (I didn't bother to edge all last year, and my yard went all Chia on me) and part to stubbornness (I have an electric edger but I swore to go green, right?). Mostly, though, it's because of ... yes, it's all about vanity.

I like how I look now. After fifteen years seesawing between 175 and 250, I'm steadying out, buffing up, pulling my ass back (against the incredible force of gravity). The last time I went to Weight Watchers, I hit the 80 pound mark. (Lost. By me. 80 freaking pounds!) It took me 2 years to lose, three months to maintain, but somehow - somehow - I must keep it off for a lifetime.

Diet, yes (addicted to fruits and vegies ... I love summer!). Self-talk, yes (easy 19 days out of every 25 ... impossible 2). But for pure, unvarnished toning, aerobics, and strength work, you can't beat the great outdoors. The garden, especially, is prime double-duty-Bunny territory - every major muscle group gets a workout most days, with the bending and stooping and squatting and pushing and pulling ... and whatever I do, no matter how small the job, my workout makes my home more beautiful. And as long as my shovel holds out, it's free, too. Is that a deal, or what? Since our house sits on a wedge, big side in front, that's (quite literally) a butt-load of edging when you do it with hand tools.

The only drawback, of course, is pain. Between the leg work (cutting the sod) and the back-and-arm work (shovelling off the sidewalk, dumping in a can), I'm feeling the burn. (Oh, Mama, am I feeling it!) I know the parts I'm strengthening (trust me, hard to miss) and I know the parts I'm beautifying (I'll take a picture later, to remind me), and I'm excited. I am. I'm making pretty, upping the curb appeal, caretaking my assets, all that good crap. It's important. I know that. And I'm almost done. At this moment, I have only one bit left, one long pass to go.

One really long pass ...

Hey, how about those Blues? Any other hockey fans out there? I can talk all day about hockey, really I can. Anybody?

What? Of course I'm not avoiding it by lingering here. Honest. I just really, really like hockey. And baseball. And the new Sookie Stackhouse novel. And ... and quantum physics. Honest.

Anybody?