In no particular order:
Sunday, March 7, 2010
- Homero tilled up about 1,000 sq feet of garden space today.
- There is a whole lot of broken concrete and very many big rocks in that garden space. Also, there are two piles of broken concrete out in the back field, each of which is at least twelve feet high.
- Homero's shop needs some parking space right outside. We set aside a space approximately
30 x 40, but it was just a sea of mud and cars kept getting stuck. We hired a guy with an excavator to dig down to the substrate, but the cost of fill and surfacing is prohibitive. We paid for a driveway so at least now we can get cars into and out of the shop, but that 8 x 30 space cost us over a grand. At that rate, the rest of the area would cost about $5,000. Which, it hardly seems necessary to add, we don't have.
- I am way too goddamned fat.
- All the time that Homero spent rototilling, I spent picking up rocks and chunks of concrete and transporting them via my garden-cart to the site of the hole in the ground out in front of Homero's shop where he wants to make a parking space.
- I can shotput a big ass chunk of concrete pretty far.
- It would take approximately a bazillion cartloads of concrete and rocks to fill that hole in front of the shop.
- I'm pretty sure that the calories theoretically extractable from said 1,000 sf garden do not approach the calories theoretically expended in transporting aforementioned concrete and rocks, plus those expended in planting, weeding, harvesting, and processing produce from same.
- Did I mention I'm pretty goddamned fat? I have approximately a decade and a half of caloric surplus stored on my hips, belly, and thighs, so perhaps it isn't a freaking tragedy if I have to expend more calories than I reap in my garden.
- We don't own a machine capable of breaking down the giant piles of concrete in the back field into pieces that we could even theoretically transport.
- I don't even know what a machine like that is called. How can I rent one if I don't know what it is called?
- I have weak ankles. I am in here writing this post instead of outside picking up rocks because my ankle gave way without warning and I fell down hard and not only twisted my ankle but also scraped the heck out of my knee.
Put all these facts together however you see fit. If you can make them come together in any way that doesn't scream "Homero should divorce you and get a younger, fitter wife" I'd be thrilled to hear it.