Yesterday, I had asked my boss for a coupla days of leave time from work. When today came around, I decided to attack them weeds at the back of my house, which have gotten almost shoulder-high in some areas.
I love weed-whackin’. It’s practically my only workout. And talk about a workout with results! Not on my body, of course (grrr…). But on the grass, that is. It feels so good to look back at the weed-whacked (bushcut) grass that’s all nice and trimmed behind me, as I’m vroom-vroomin’ along.
It wasn’t so humid outside today. On some days, I could be sweatin’ so bad, that I can barely keep my eyes open because of the sweat pouring down from my forehead.
I have me a favorite cotton hat which I love to put on whenever I’m gonna do any outdoor work. It used to be my Pops’ construction working hat, so it’s real special to me. Because it’s cotton, it’s comfy, helps to keep the sweat outta my eyes, and has got some paint spackles all over it too.
About 3 years ago, I could weed-whack between 6 to 7 hours long. And even hold my pee the whole time, wouldja believe? I’ve got bladder problems (amongst my other issues), but somehow, I’m able to hold my whiz for that long when it comes to weed-whackin’ years ago.
But now, I can only weed-whack for about 2 to 3 hours long. Sometimes my back starts to already crank out within the first half hour. But I keep trudging on, if that be the case, for at least an hour and a half long, so that my having put on all of my gear wouldn’t have been a waste.
What’s my weed-whackin’ gear? (I woulda taken pictures of these items, but the sis took my camera with her to Korea. She and the parents had all left me to guard the house for vacation. Okay fine, cuz I had to go to work and don’t got me no vacation time yet too.)
1. My Pops’ old work hat.
2. Long pants, preferably cargo pants cuz they’ve got more pockets. I stick a wire-cutting tool into my left thigh pocket and use it as a plier to yank out the used weed-whackin’ strings out, in order to stick in new ones. And I put at least 10 pre-cut weed-whackin’ strings into my right side thigh pocket.
3. A pair of lime green-colored galoshes, which my Mom had gotten for me about 5 years ago. There’s a hole on the bottom of one of them cuz I had accidentally stepped onto a plywood that had nails stickin’ out of ‘em. Ouchie!
4. My weed-whackin’ face mask. It kinda looks like a welder’s mask, except it’s not enclosed in the back of my head. Just a clear plastic cover that’s attached to an adjustable head gear thingy. There are 2 main stuffs it protects my face from:
#1. Flyin’ rocks.
#2. Doggie poopie. I actually had a picture of the kinda doggie poopie that I always hit out there with my weed-whacker. But I ended up deleting it cuz it woulda grossed y’all out and me too fo sho. But in order to give y’all a sorta idea of how big those poopie bombs can be, they’re often about 3 to 5 inches wide. So whenever I’d accidentally hit ‘em, this is what happens, dependin’ on the weather:
a. If it’s raining and them poopies are sloshy, then they go SPLAT! onto my clothes and face mask.
b. If it’s a nice and sunny day, then them poopies go POOF! and burst into the air – and its blown up particles go stickin’ onto my clothes and hair.
My neighbors have about 6 dogs that always cross on over as they please all around the outside of my house (a gate has been in building process to prevent this for the past month now). So how many doggie poopies do I hit with my weed-whacker? Between at least 2 to up to 10. That’s right, up to 10 bombs that go Splat! or Poof! on me. Carumba.
5. A very long and thick, black-colored apron. I’m not sure what this apron is supposed to be worn for cuz I’ve never in my life seen construction workers wear such an apron. I think they sorta look like the kind that butchers would wear. Anyhow, it’s been my BEST flying rocks protector.
In the past, I never bothered to get me such an apron because I thought that it would just make me sweat even more, when I’m already almost blind from the rain already coming down my forehead. But au contrair (did I spell that right?). Prior to my wearing the apron, I used to get at least 30 welts all over my legs and thighs. The worst is when a rock would hit me right on the very same spot where another rock had hit me so hard, that it had left a big bruise. When that happens, I yell out, “Aaah!”, lean over on my weed-whacker, and pretty much just cry my eyes out cuz it hurt so bad.
But now that I’ve got this good ‘ole long apron to wear, it really does do an awesome job of providing an extra thick layer of protection from flying rocks. I’ve been using the one I have for about 3 months now and boy, oh boy is it torn up. Almost looks like bullet holes all over the bottom of it.
In case you’re deciding to get one for yourself too, make sure to get the kind of long, thick apron which has an adjustable strap for your neck and for your waist. The straps have a sorta clasp which clicks together. For those aprons which don’t have this type of adjustable clasp, they just have a sorta string for your neck and waist to tie with. Not a good thing, especially if the apron is too long for you. That’s the case for me, so I do a sorta folding thing on the waist part of the apron and then click on the clasp real nice and snug on the back of my waist. That long apron never unravels.
6. And last of all, it’s important to wear good gloves. I used to wear a pair of cotton gloves inside of a pair of long rubber gloves that went all the way to my elbows. But those rubber gloves have since been discarded and the long pairs of rubber gloves that I do have now are not as big a size, that I can’t wear cotton gloves underneath ‘em. So I have to choose whether I’m gonna put on a pair of cotton gloves or long rubber gloves.
The benefit of wearing long rubber gloves is that they keep the flying rocks from making bruises on my arms. I have yet to find cotton gloves that are long and reach to my elbows, so that they can do the same thing. So in order to protect my arms while I was gonna attack the weeds that were really in the boonies one day, I decided to put on them rubber gloves. This was not a good idea. Because after about 4 hours of my hands sweating inside of the gloves, my knuckles started to get raw inside of ‘em. So I took out the little torn towel that I was using as a handkerchief, found me some masking tape, and made me a makeshift bandage to wear inside of my gloves.
The thumb knuckle looked worse than the middle finger knuckle, but it was the middle finger knuckle that was feelin’ more owie to me.
The type of local spiders that are often all over the boonies. It’s usually the smaller ones that I find crawling on the brim of my hat or on my pants. Thank God not the big ones yet. I don’t think these bite, but still…they be creepy critters.