time's a-wastin'.

hard work.
yard work.
'tard work.
turd work.
uh-huh.
how else could i have squandered the meager minutes
of bright out light-out time on an otherwise beautiful day off?
i used gas-powered tools.
and a tarp.
how F*n' uber-manly is THAT?
my hands went numb from blowin'.
(that's what she said, but i think she was doing it wrong)
yup.
blowin', raking, mulchin' and carryin' leaves.
for something like 6 hours.
what am i?
an A-hole?
probably.
i could've been doing lots of fun stuff,
but instead i've got a clean backyard.
and a pair of boots saturated in dog crap.
it's cool,
they were already brown and smelly before i even got started.
i cleared a spot for a compost pile, too.
until now,
we've mostly been dumping all the compost in an undefined heap,
and instead of breaking down into rich, loamy, fertile hottness
animals show up every night and munch it up.
not for long, however.
a shovel and some clippers, and some rocks,
and next spring we'll be mulching and enriching with the very best of 'em.
did i burn myself on the leaf blower?
of course.
bid i almost slice my hand off, too?
oh, yeah.
what about pulled muscles.
i thought that an absence of toned-up meat bumps would protect me,
but it turns out you can pull a muscle even if it looks like it isn't there.
nice.
really,
it was just like every other attempt at adulthood's responsibilites.
i was tired,
i didn't enjoy it,
i hurt myself,
and the results paled in comparison to the effort it took to get 'em.
there's plans, though.
schematics, even.
blueprints on yellow paper and all that.
for an epic viking firepit.
with standing stones, and crushed stone,
and air intakes,
and all kinds of other bells and whistles.
that's a good investment of time, energy, effort, and loot.
a thane's throne,
and icelandic althing barbarian bonfire station.
c'mon.
what's a fortress without one?
a weak-sauce sh!tshack, that's what.
naturally,
i'll most likely hurt myself a few times whilst erecting this monument
to warrior poetry and stormswept gyspy battle-beastliness.
that's part of the promise, yeah?
blood, sweat, and tears an' that.
oh, and burns.
you gotta have burns, too
you can't forget about scalding skaldic scars.
that's some trial-by-fire sh!t,
and that's a key ingredient.
without burns,
it's all just flash and smoke;
never quiet, never soft....