Glamorous Surburan Housewife Pummels Neighbor With a Flat of Petunias

The yard work is done and I'm sure my neighbors are relieved to not have to deal with one more day of The Braless Wonder. Lest you might think that sounds sort of hot, let me assure you that it most definitely is not.

I began my 3-day adventure wearing a tank top with a built-in bra. You know, the ones that make it look like you've got a speed bump across your chest? By day 3, which was this morning, I was forced to abandon the tank tops since my back is sunburned so badly that we could use it as a hot plate if our electricity goes out. I chose a plain white t-shirt but was forced to forgo appropriate undergarments because of the burn. In fact, I would like to have forgone the t-shirt as well but even I know that would probably have been frowned upon.

So there I was, working like a dog as the sweat pooled at the waist band of my shorts as well as under my booblical area. Unfortunately, those two areas are in the exact same place which means I either had my shorts pulled up way too high or my breasticles were hanging way too low without their usual cast iron underwire.

Add to that my blinding white legs that are a roadmap of spider veins but now also include dozens of cuts, scrapes and puncture wounds as well as a lovely scattering of poison ivy blisters. Oh, and they're hairy as well because I can't shave over all the wounds.

Pretty, huh?

Since the poison ivy and the sunburn are battling to see who can make Shannon the most miserable, I fought back by doing an internet search for home remedies. I found that vinegar is effective on sunburns as well as poison ivy AND I already have vinegar on hand. Score! After my shower this afternoon I filled a spray bottle with vinegar and sprayed my affected areas, which is my whole body. The vinegar did indeed take the sting out of the sunburn but it transferred it to all the cuts and scrapes I've got. And it only lasted about 20 minutes but it was better than nothing. It didn't do anything for the poison ivy blisters so I used Ivarest on them. My medicine cabinet is cleaned out which means no expired products, if that tells you how often I get poison ivy. I think the stuff is a placebo anyway but again, it's better than nothing.

On a happier note, I'm getting a little better at controlling my leaf blower. I've been practicing so that my neighbor won't make me look so bad. Her name is Mrs. Hazel and she's 80 years old if she's a day. That woman wields her leaf blower like it was Excalibur. She intimidates me.

Most of my yard work was cleaning all the weeds and dead leaves out the flower beds. That's what's in all those black trash bags. That's also after I hired a lawn service to do that job for me. Yeah, I won't be doing that again. Then I trimmed all the shrubbery in the front and back yards. I actually sort of like doing that. With the exception of one big holly bush on the side of the house, most of our shrubs are camellias, azaleas and gardenias. I like my shrubs to look like giant bonsais. I don't like them square or round or even a thick free-form mess. I like them trimmed up from the bottom, away from the back, and thinned out in the middle. I think Edward Scissorhands would be proud.

Last spring Jayson trimmed the cypress tress and the Chinese elm trees that we have in the back yard. He took off some big branches and just tossed them over the fence to the front side yard that's sort of hidden. And there they sat. For a year. Then he moved to Houston, leaving me to deal with a huge pile of dead branches.

Oh. And just in case that wasn't bad enough...that's where the poison ivy was growing. I hauled that huge pile of branches to the curb, by myself, infecting myself with poison ivy in the process and dreaming up ways to get revenge on my darling husband. I texted him a picture of the pile he left and asked him to remind me to punch him in the face the next time I see him.

My other neighbor came out for a chat and we were talking about how much work I'd done and how Jayson needed a good punch in the face for leaving me extra work to do. She said, "Ooohhh, I know exactly what you mean. My husband just left for a job and we've got to get these petunias in the ground. I guess I'll just have to do it myself."

I looked down at her petunia plants, about a dozen of them, then over at the huge pile of branches on my curb. I decided that Jayson wasn't the only one who needed a good punch in the face.