I’m sunburnt and I ache in places I forgot could ache at all.
See, I spent most of the day outside working on the lawn. Now that I’m a homeowner, I have a lawn and I get to join that club of people who worry over their lawn. Let’s forget, for the moment, that my lawn is actually only slightly larger than a postage stamp (it’s about 10′ by 10′) and just bask in the glory of rakes, hoes, sharp-claw-rake-thingy’s, seed, hose, sprinklers, and fertilizers and heave a collective sigh, shall we?
Every townhouse on my street has nice green lawns. We have a Malcom in the Middle brown patch of dirt. We waited to see what would grow and, except for a single large tuft in the middle (which I grew long and attempted a lawn-comb-over on) nothing really came of it. So, I clawed up the rest of the dead grass, laid down some new topsoil, sprinkled (by hand, something I’m sure I’ll pay for later when I get weird clumpy grass) the seed and watered the mess. In a few days I’ll add fertilizer.
After I came in, I noticed that I felt much worse than I figured I should. Sure, I should be tired but I felt actually sick. That should have tipped me off since I always run a fever when I get a sunburn, just part of the magic of being me. It wasn’t until dinner that Ann took one look at me and said “You got a sunburn.”
And now I’m feeling it. That and aches all over my body. Guess I need to get into shape, too. Ah well, it was a good day’s work.