I can't stand a "whiner!" But...

...darn it, I broke a nail!

Now, does that sound like something a chick would say, or what!

On Friday night I frightened the bejeebers out of myself. I had just gotten cleaned up, and noticed that my fingernails looked like something you might use to open a can of beans. I mean, those bad boys would wise up even Hansel & Gretel.

Knowing that I had a mass of yard work to do this weekend (using many gasoline powered 'man tools'), I thought to myself, "If I don't trim these rascals, I am going to rip at least one of them down into the quick. Plus, they look like crap!" So, I broke out the reading glasses, sat me down in the floor, and had a high old time pruning. And they were just perfect, if I do say so myself...I mean, I could have done a commercial for Palmolive or something.

While I was at it, I took into my toenails, too...you know, "in for a penny, in for a pound" and all. And, just in case somebody requested another picture of my feet...

So, Saturday morning arrived...and the weather was nice. Good and warm, but not muggy for a change. So, after the grass dried up, me and The Mrs. went over to The Mrs. In-law's house and got her yard all beautiful (I gotta take some pictures of her back yard to show y'all. It is like something out of Better Homes and Gardens...seriously). Weedeating, mowing, edging, blowing...all done. No problema!

Then we came on back by the little widow lady's house and got her place all spiffy, too! (Pay attention...this will become very important to know as the story progresses). Both the widow lady & The Mrs. In-Law have their own mowers...the kind that start with a key...no jerking on a pull rope...nice! All I haul is my weedeater & blower to their places, and use their nice mowers.

Anyway, we get back home about 1:30, and it's hot. So, I sit down to cool off, and get ready for a shower. But I'm thinking, "I'm already filthy & nasty...and even though it's hot, it ain't humid...there's a nice breeze blowing...I may as well go on ahead and get started on my yard, and the next door neighbor's too." (My next door neighbor is the wonderful young lady that is to marry #3 son) I really didn't want to make a whole weekend out of mowing, so I decided to get a jump on Sunday afternoon.

So, I break out my new "Poulan Pro" self-pulling mower (which I love btw...5 STARS), gas 'er up, grab the pull rope...

And the first pull, I hang up the pointer fingernail of my right hand, ripping my freshly trimmed nail all the way down into the quick. The! Very! First! Stinkin'! Pull!!!

Sigh... After all that advanced preparation I did the night before, the "funky-painful-nail-gods" made sport of me. Darn it!!!!

Now, just for purposes of illustration, this is the pointer fingernail on my left hand. We shall call it the "Control."

"Control" pointer fingernail

As you can see, I did a fine job of trimming! In fact, it would be almost impossible to rip such a finely trimmed nail off.

But not so. We shall call this "Injured beyond repair, painful, right hand pointer fingernail."

"Injured beyond repair, painful, right hand pointer fingernail."

I huwt my widduw pointer!

You see, it just shows to go ya', that no matter how well you believe you have prepared for something, fate may have another plan. And, it also illustrates that it is often the very thing we are sure we have insured against happening, that does. Whacha' gonna do? You can't do nothing!

Well, at least Pinky, Ringman, Tallman, and Thumbkin survived the harrowing experience. They have been giving comfort to pointer, as he is nursed back to health.

The bad thing for me is that I did not finish up yesterday, and will have to weed-eat, and mow some more today in excruciating pointer pain.
The bad thing for you is that you are so stinkin' bored out of your mind on a Sunday that you read this all the way to the end, just hoping and praying that it might eventually become entertaining! Nope...

Y'all have a good one! I love all y'all!