Lazy

 Seems like my laptop is suffering attacks as often as the weather is flooding regions of our country. As if that is not enough, I have to jump through hoops to get my blog back.

The weather is lovely here and I spent some time outside in the gardens. I wish I could download pictures, but my efforts seem to annoy the powers that rule the internet. It is all I can do to stay online, much less try to learn a new trick.

I took The Man by his hand and we walked outside. What I saw was completely different than his view. His carport has become his dumping ground. Well, besides the back seat of his truck. Inside he tends to use my coffee station. Did you hear me scream "WET AREA" when I had to pull all the mail and receipts piled there when they got wet and left a gooey mess of paper pulp. You say you didn't? Well, you certainly should have.

I asked him what he saw as he looked around. He saw the cute kittens frolicking in the front yard and what he calls periwinkles everywhere. That is his word for any flower he sees. I have corrected his assumption many times, but I think he must like the way "periwinkle" rolls off his tongue. He then noticed that I had mowed and complimented me on how nice it looked.

I turned him around to face the carport that houses the RV and his flatbed trailer right now. The trailer has various debris and leftover materials from projects laying helter-skelter all over the place. The ground beneath has the overflow on it. The grill is there, with a piece of decking holding one end up where the wheels fell off.

The big mower and a broken wagon adorn the middle part. Behind the RV is a stack of neatly stacked boards left from projects. Well, they were stacked neatly at one time. I know this because it was through my efforts that the neat stack happened.

Let's go to the other side of the carport where there is a big bag of rock sits forlornly waiting to be put in the ditch along the side of the drive. I won't further embarrass The Man by telling you how long it has been waiting there. Here is what happened: The Man was employing the use of my favorite wagon (because it dumps) to haul the rock. I opined that he was over filling it with a very heavy material. "Do you want my help or not?" was his response. This was right before he broke the handle of my wagon. The wagon that was MINE. The wagon is quite sturdy and was expensive, despite being made of a heavy-duty plastic. It was a GIFT TO ME! Did he attempt to fix it? No, he did not.

But I have wandered far from my subject matter, as I am apt to. You get the picture. He didn't. I then asked how he would feel about the appearance of the yard should someone come for a visit. It is always good to see things through the eyes of others. He finally got what I was saying and agreed we (WE) should clean it up.

With a very mild day, today was supposed to be that day. I am willing to bet he spent a good 15 minutes picking things up and putting them back down before he was suddenly missing in action. Claiming it to be too hot he went inside.

I continued with my agenda until I caught the flesh of my hand under my fingers in the clippers I was using and clipped a chunk of said flesh out of my hand. Not the surgery hand, the other hand. After I cleaned it up and bandaged it, I went on with some chores inside.

I feel defeated. Just when I think I have captured his attention and will have some help. He knows I will clean it up because it bothers me. He embraces old age with all the enthusiasm he can muster! He has truly defined "lazy".