Down in the Garden [Warning: NOT for the Squeamish] : )

I was going to write about this great analogy I thought of about weeding in the garden--since that is what I spent 5 hours doing, on Saturday. It really gives one time to think. Many of my thoughts were, "OW!" I was in the front yard, so I really had to be creative to pull the weeds, and get around behind the plants, and NOT wave my backside at the oncoming traffic too much.

Naturally, I woke up Sunday morning, all achy and sore and we had an outpouring of the Holy Spirit! I didn't get as much exercise there as Bro. Fred (Praise Him, Brother!) but it sure wasn't a stand-still kind of morning. Hallelujah!

Back to Saturday, though, I really don't mind pulling the weeds. When I have the time, I really enjoy getting every last little bit out, even when I have to dig down a little. Last year was the first time I really put any new plants in, so I spent a lot of time getting the front garden all laid out and organized. Do you have any idea how many nasty little creatures live in the dirt? It is a disgusting, bustling metropolis!

Over the course of the summer, I did learn NOT to scream every time a spider jumped out (and my garden spiders are HUGE!)! I got to know which bugs are good for a garden; and I also learned that you have to kill the ones that are bad for a garden so that they don't kill all your lovely plants. [Warning: next sentence NOT for the squeamish] I got pretty good at squeezing grubs as I tossed them away--feeling the faint "Pop!" just before releasing them into the weed pile.

Which is where my story, today, leads us...I was hurrying to finish because I needed to shower and get ready for Bro. Richard's birthday party, AND I had been doing this for the last five hours. As I fought with the last big weed, I uncovered another grub. It's important, here, to insert the tidal wave of factors that led to what happened...I was tired and my joints were stiff, I hadn't stopped for lunch, I was in a hurry but unable to move quickly, and I was obviously NOT thinking straight. IT WAS HUGE!! And, yes, I squeezed it. (By the way--I wear thick gardening gloves, just in case you thought I was actually doing this bare-handed.)

But my arms were not moving quickly enough, so it didn't pop as it was tossed into the pile. IT POPPED ALL OVER MEEEEEEEE!!!!! Thank God, I had my sunglasses on and my mouth was closed. I felt wet splotches land everywhere...in my hair, on my face, on my neck. I looked down and there were little white goo blobs all over my pretty, green, "Everyone Loves an Irish Girl!" t-shirt.

Well, that did it. I left the last weed. I'm going to carry that horror with me, down to my grave. And now you can, too!