Monday: My nemesis, the wheelbarrow.

On Monday I spent most of my day digging MORE trenches. We were down to those that ran through the grass, which meant that I couldn't just chuck the dirt wherever I wanted. I brought out the wheelbarrow and it glared at me. At least it would have if it could. I am a fairly athletic person, therefore having some piece of outdoor equipment defeat me is embarrassing to admit, but I have always had problems using wheelbarrows. I can fill them up just fine. I can dump them out just fine. I just have problems in the middle. Pretty much anyone watching me "drive" a wheelbarrow would think I was drunk. The strongest drink I have ever had is Fresca, so that is definitely not the problem. I think all wheelbarrows should be stripped of their lone wheel and given two wheels. That poor single wheel needs a friend and seems to think that he/she/it should take its loneliness out on those of us who are trying to get work done. On Monday the wheelbarrow defeated me on its first attempt and as I wheeled my first load to a dumping spot the load came crashing down. In an attempt to catch the falling dirt I really hurt myself (and got a great bruise) but needed to keep digging. I decided the wheelbarrow battle was not one I was willing to fight (since I'd probably loose anyway), so I dug up all the trenches and loosened up all the dirt, but left it in the ground, and waited for my knight in shining armor to conquer the wheelbarrow later that evening. This is what the yard looked like after Monday was over--WHAT A DISASTER!!

p.s. They make miniature wheelbarrows to train kids up in being defeated by wheelbarrows (notice our kids' wheelbarrow in the background of the picture). What kind of sick person thought that would be funny and why is it that the kids seem to not notice that the wheelbarrow is glaring at them?