Now I know why it is called Labor Day weekend. Because you save up all the projects that you need to get done during the year and try to cram it into one weekend. Labor is right!

We were going to go to Canton today and spend the day looking around, possibly to buy new Adirondack chairs. But I (yes, it was me that made the suggestion) decided that we really needed to spend time working outside since we hadn’t done any yard work in a while (except for Joe mowing the lawn every couple weeks).

First thing, Joe starts to mow and edge the lawn. I venture out to tackle the weeds. I trim back the grass that has grown into the flowers. I prune the crepe myrtles. I start to clean the pool. Beads of sweat begin to form a river that runs down my forehead, to my chest, and then down my legs. On the back side, it starts at my neck and goes and the way down my back. Yes, labor. Hours of labor. Who knew that our yard needed this much work.

And just when I thought it might end, we have to get out the saw and start trimming trees (yes, it was my suggestion). But the small reciprocating saw just wasn’t enough for our job. So we had to pull out the big guns. An electric chain saw (not nearly as scary as in the Halloween movies). Oh, and I look over and notice the rose bush could use a good trimming. So I move on to the roses. Finally, Joe tells me the back of his truck is full so he said “We are done, right?”

Yes, we are done. For now. I hope we don’t save up all our projects for next Labor Day.