As we resume our Theraflu inspired backyard landscaping tale, please remember all this happened in a window of ten hours.
After the ever patient Christian deposited the eight bags of sand in precisely the right spots where I could simply rip open the bags and redistribute their contents, I attended to my task with renewed zeal.
I joyfully hacked opened the packages with my hoe. The stabbing of the bags was strangely therapeutic. I found that as I faced each new bag I would automatically raise my hoe higher, and strike harder with a renewed vigor. Of course there were lots of grunts and groans. Sweat poured down my cleavage as well as traced a channel down the crook of my nose. I couldn't really tell if it was sweat that dripped off the end of my nose, or the snot from my cold.
I imagined myself metaphorically hacking all the virus out of my lungs as I tore into each bag. Problem was, I think I read this disclaimer on approximately the fourth or fifth bag, "Do Not Inhale Contents. Contains Silica." stamped onto each bag.
WTF???? Here I am, hacking and HACKING, down wind no less, and inhaling as I go about my frenzied activity. Even after reading the dire warning, I did not slow down. I just changed directions.
I believe I also had a set to my jaw that frightened the poodles. Both Tito and Lula Mae lounged a good ten feet away from the wildly striking hoe. Smart poodles.
The Mominator, my 13 year old Yorkie, had seen this kind of behavior from me many times before. Even on this gorgeously sunny day, she preferred to lay on the comfy couch the entire time I was laboring. Well, once she came out and deposited a tiny tootsie roll next to all the activity. I swear she rolled her eyes when she went back into the house.
"Thanks Mommy, I needed a break." I muttered to myself as I cleaned up her addition to my project.
Slowly as I worked, bag by bag, and as I jigsawed together each piece of meshed-together by meshed-together stepping stone, the area of mud was slowly converted into a semi-patio.
I stopped for an occasional drink, or sometimes I stopped to splash water all over my snotty face. For hours I worked feverishly to complete my vision.
Remember I said I wanted it to be rustic? Good thing that was what my vision was. I managed to get the area covered. It is uneven, but do-able.
I have a warm feeling of accomplishment. I watered down the sand, and then sat on a chair on the cement patio to admire my creation.
"Looks good. It will work." I say to the poodles as they sit next to me.
I still need Christian to bring me some more sand to pour on top of the stones. Hopefully, it will fill in the cracks. After that, I will plant the small ground coverings of Alyssum and Wolly Tyme. Yes, that should do it....
Later that evening, Phyllie comes home. "I don't think the poodles will like them. I don't think they will want to romp on them."
"Excuse me, but have you checked on the poods since you got out of the shower? I saw a streak of white followed by a streak of black. I think they like the pavers just fine. Thank you very much." I replied in a huff.
"Really?" Off she goes to investigate.
True to my word, the poodles are happily celebrating the new surface. There tends to be a bit of sand flying as they race by, but I will take that any day over clomps of mud.
The project is far from over, but my main mission has been accomplished.
Now, if I could just cough up all that silica......