Thursday, September 15, 2005

random mutterings of a lawn ranger, week 1.

Rex is sore, Kittens and cats. I got up at five a.m. last Saturday to help my brother-in-law pour concrete and then had a short and Titan aggravation filled Sunday before starting my three or four month stint as a landscaping professional. Luckily, I will have a week off here and there to travel for one of my other, less manual labor involved half-jobs.

But today I landscaped until I got caught in the rain, which is good and bad. It ended my workday by a few hours, but those hours will also be absent from my first paycheck. Also, I had to drive from West Meade back to Murfreesboro soaking wet, and in dire need of exchanging my attire for a dry martini.

I ended up going with coffee though, as my morning coffee intake has had to be shortened quite a bit with this job. There is nowhere on the worksite to relieve myself where I am not in the view of passersby or outside the window of some Bell Meade trophy bride, a nanny, or Al Gore.

Sure, I could stop somewhere on the way, but it is always a hassle.

The good thing about this job is that it should sufficiently diminish my burgeoning beergut. If it does not, then the beergut is meant to be and should therefore be left alone.

I am usually not the hard working type when it comes to actual work, but I have come home everyday this week with my clothes completely drenched in sweat. My arms are tanned and the hair on them is turning blonde. Muscles that I don’t even use are sore, perhaps for sympathy. My legs are bleeding from rosebush thorns, scratching at mosquito bites, or getting too near a drunken and disheveled former U.S. senator and vice president.
Katherine Coble actually drove by and took a picture to document my labor. She then opened and unloaded quite a few garbage bags full of empty malt liquor bottles just so I would have to pick them up.

11 Comments:

Blogger Kat Coble said...

Hey. Zima is good for you...

6:57 PM  
Blogger Kat Coble said...

See, Rex.

The goodhearted people at BlogSpam Unlimited are looking out for your best interest. Enough of those Payday Loans and you won't have to trim Al's hydrangea.

Or work in a gas station convenience store.

7:31 PM  
Blogger Stella said...

As I was jamming to Que Onda Guero on my way to work, I drove by a guy mowing this morning. He had on a red shirt. Big sunglasses. He was Latino.

Was that you, Rex?

9:33 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

yes indeed, the inability of one to relieve one's self is often the greatest burden of that job i have found but it does take care of any lingering fears of shell station bathrooms when, truely, any hole in the ground would do.
....there were some "train spotting-eque" moments.

9:47 AM  
Blogger Stella said...

ST - If you're the same piano-playing Sethro that was at one (or more) of CC's parties last year, I believe we did a little dance to Red Headed Stranger at one point.

There might have been some Family Guy happenin', too.

You like popsicles? Cuz I got a whole freezer full of popsicles down in the cellar.

2:13 PM  
Blogger Rex L. Camino said...

If blogspam says that my blog is nice, then it must be, Katherine.

Also, was it you or Kleinheider who first tried to make the gas guy connection? He talks quite a bit about philosophy, and philosophy makes me sleepy. However, I noticed that I live in the same part of Murfreesboro as Kleinheider--maybe even the same neighborhood.

I will find a place in the shrubs before I venture into a Trainspotting-esque bathroom, Sethro.

Jill, I'm afraid that wasn't me. I haven't been Latino in quite some time. Also, I think Sethro is the ST you think he is. Just follow his link for confirmation.

3:52 PM  
Blogger Stella said...

Yes, I do believe he is.

5:50 PM  
Blogger Stella said...

PS - Ol' Rexy, I'm sure that we must've crossed paths at one point or another (excluding the landscaping drivebys)...

5:51 PM  
Blogger Rex L. Camino said...

It is quite possible, Jill.

11:18 AM  
Blogger Rex L. Camino said...

Gracias, Huckster.

10:39 AM  
Blogger Joe Powell said...

Wasn't the triptych of "A Belle Meade trophy wife, a nanny, or Al Gore" one of those Carnac the Magnificent jokes?
If not, shoulda been.

8:47 PM  

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