These are rough times.
Stay true to yourself.
sun-beaten, in 90+ F. heat, I envisioned being on a 1930’s
rocks into little ones the day forever long.
Natural enough an association, no?
Given the oppressive heat and the sense of hard labor that was invading
my en-scorched psyche. Though it was something I never self-imaged before.
come over later in the day to help her recover some half-foot thick sidewalk
sandstone slabs that her city had replaced with concrete and which the city
would haul away if she didn’t quickly claim them. So guess what I ended up doing? At the very same time the day before that I
had imagined myself chain-ganging rocks for the boss man, I ended up sledge-hammering
4 x 6 ft. sandstone slabs into four 2 x 3 ft. manageable blocks and hauling
them to the site of Dr. Margie’s future patio.
Let me tell you, with each of the smaller blocks weighing about 200 lbs., it really did constitute a chain-gang type ordeal. 2 tons?
3 tons? I’ve no good grasp of how
much stone I dragged, wiggled, lifted, rolled, wheel-barrowed, and wagoned in
the same unrelenting 90+ F. heat. I was
literally raining sweat off of my skull with every step I took. I was shedding, showering so much (precious
bodily) fluid that I felt like my own mini-thunderstorm leaving trails of
wetness wherever I turned.
The Human Shower! Is
there such a Super-Hero?
Recent Comments