Marvel A Little

Hard work is cathartic, even when it is done in a lazy woman's way. Today I used the push mower to continue on what my son started with the weed whacker the other day. The part of my yard I have to take care of is very small, but it is also full of rocks, roots, holes and it slopes down rather perilously along the edges. If I didn't have a fence, I suspect I would have already fallen down the mountain a few times this summer.

I have developed a method of doing hard labor that allows me to keep doing those things I really can't do anymore. I work until I am so hot and sweaty and out of breath that I think I should quit. Then I do. I sit in the shade, or on the swing, and cool off while I marvel at myself. You might not marvel, but it helps me to find reasons to get up and do a little more -- and this cycle repeats itself until the job is done, if I am lucky.

I used to do the whole job at once when I was younger. I would start out feeling very noble, work into a state of solid self pity, finally climaxing in a state of fury that is terrifying to imagine, and finish off with a mantra of something mean spirited and vindictive running through my mind like a broken record.

I find it is healthier to marvel.