Monday, June 20, 2005

1 Tae Kwon Do vest + 40 feet of rope + 2 full-grown adults = sheer genius

My husband and I returned to our adventures in gardening this weekend. The weather was not too hot, not too humid, and just right for physical exertion and playing in the dirt.

One of our biggest garden obstacles is this set of old fence posts that were left in when the fence itself was removed. My husband has been removing one or two of these at a time, with big, honkin' hunks of concrete on the bottom of the metal posts, often two feet deep. They're HEAVY. I rather enjoy the process of their removal because a) I like watching other people work while I sit on my ass and b) my husband usually takes his shirt off and gets all sweaty and his muscles stand out all sexy-like while he digs way down to get the concrete free and then hauls the hunk-o-concrete out. It's just about perfect when I add a gin-'n'-tonic to the equation.

Sometimes when he sees me sipping a G&T while he works his ass off, he tries to press me into service. So the even better way for me to enjoy the process of de-posting the yard is inside, in the air conditioning, sipping a G&T, watching him from the window and ducking out of sight if he looks toward the window. Watching him be sweaty and sexy is much less enjoyable if I have to go get sweaty myself.

Anyway, he took out two posts this weekend, and one was a corner post, which, for some reason, had TWO hunks of concrete attached to it. As if a post had been sunk, sliced off at ground level, and then resunk four inches over. This was a HUGE piece of concrete. He couldn't pull it out. He pressed me into service, and the two of us couldn't even budge it.

So Mr. McGee decides he really needs chains and a truck to haul it out. Sadly, we possess neither. So he settles for 40 feet of sturdy rope and starts trying to haul it out that way. This had two problems: First, Mr. McGee is too tall, so he was pulling UP, not out. Second, pulling that hard on something that heavy makes the rope cut into one's hands and/or shoulders. Mr. McGee solved the second problem first, by hauling out an old Tae Kwon Do vest with padding, so you could get kicked in the stomach with minimal pain. But of course, it still wasn't working. Eyebrows, who has far more experience hauling around things that outweigh her (because Eyebrows is not a very big girl and used to have to walk a dog twice her weight), had to take over.

So I put on the vest backwards, looped the ropes around my back, tied them in front, and leaned all my weight backwards onto the ropes, with the padding of the Tae Kwon Do vest to protect my tender skin. (Backwards is better than forwards because people tend not to mind falling on their asses but won't fully commit their weight if they might fall on their faces.) Mr. McGee applied his not-inconsiderable strength to pulling on the post.

And then, with what I wish I could describe as a "pop" but was really more of a loud groan from my husband, the double hunk-o-concrete came free, I fell on my ass, and my husband lost his balance. Some more grunting and straining, pulling with the ropes and the post, and we got the post and its double hunk safely on the grass a few feet away from the hole.

Now, of course, we have a good 300 lbs. of concrete with a four-foot post sticking out of it lying on our back lawn, with no clear idea of how to move it or what to do to get rid of it. But the important thing here is that it's out of the hole. And that marriage is all about teamwork, particularly when there's an old fence post with a double helping of concrete holding it in the ground.

Yep. Teamwork. Teamwork, and the fact that this entire ridiculous gambit seemed perfectly logical to both of us.

It's not so much being sane, after all, that holds a marriage together, as being well-matched in your insanity. And the ability to sip an ever-so-summery alcoholic beverage while enjoying your spouse's sexy sweatiness. That's crucial to a happy marriage. Trust me!

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