The skies have been dark all week and finally we’re having a little rain after months of dry weather. Not much rain, but what falls is appreciated. I am trying to improve the day by weedwhacking my fence lines. This is slow work because my weak knee is not up to lurching over uneven ground for too long. Nevertheless, I work at it a little almost every day.

In the hot dampness, the weedwhacker steams and wet shreds of goldenrod and raspberry canes paste themselves all over my glasses, shirt, and pants. After an hour I look like the survivor of a salad explosion.

In addition to my bad knee (diagnosed last week as missing cartilage, and prescribed a shot of cortisone plus a webbing and metal brace) and my bad elbow (not yet medically inspected), I also have arthritis in my hands. For years now I’ve been unable to open the head of my weedwhacker to change the blades or refill the string. Thus, I’ve had to rely on an alternative method.

I often smile to myself, imagining the amazed remarks of any observer. “So then to change the blades, this crazy lady got out a giant pipe wrench …”


One Response to Weedwhacking

  1. Missy says:

    “… survivor of a salad explosion.’ Lol! I know the feeling and that describes it perfectly! Sorry about your knee, hands and other bits that are letting you down. It’s a bit depressing when things stop working, isn’t it?

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