Well... A bit differnt weekend this time. I’d planned to stay up north and have Dad and D come up today to go down to the Center for Wooden Boats where the Nina is visiting for tours.
But D had an event friday with her brochitis that meant a trip to the hospital for her. She’s OK, they were afraid it was pnumonia, but it turned out not, and they let her just go home. But she was strictly forbidden to do anything strenuous, so the Nina trip was canceled.
I decided to just stay up here and do some needed cleanups and organization of stuff and mow the (tiny) yard. The yard may look small, but it fought back with a vengeance. Maybe only ten or fifteen minutes of wading into the two-foot tall grass and suddenly I can’t breathe. I dropped the weedwacker and ran into the house, doused my head and face in the sink, and changed clothes.
Shades of a prior time of a massive allergic reaction running the weedwhacker in heavy grass. It was kinda scary. Thought for a while about calling 911, but first I took some benedryl and just sat down for a while and slowly it started to clear.
Dang... Now the stupid yard is half cut down and I don’t dare finishing it without a syringe and some Epinephrine. :-)
I didn’t even dare going back out there until this morning, to put away the tools.
Yeesh. But I got the house all organized and clean. So there’s that. Not sure what to do about the yard.
Yikes. You might have to just hire a neighbor kid to mow it.
Is it only when it’s that tall you have a problem? Or any time?