Yes, this girl:
has a fear of sharp objects. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in while I explain why I felt the need to share with you this tidbit. My parents are getting on in years, so when I visit home, I try to help with more labor-intensive work around the house, like gardening. The other day, my dad decided it was time to trim the brush in the backyard. Two years ago, I bought him a hedge trimmer, and he's really taken to it.
I, on the other hand, think it's the stuff of nightmares. There's something about it that says "unholy love child of a sawfish and a duck having a menage à trois with a motor".
My dad operates it pretty well, so I guess that's more important that my phobia of saber-toothed canards. Of course, that doesn't alleviate my concerns over the following:
We live on a pretty steep hill, which makes outdoor maintenance difficult. At the bottom of the hill is a rocky creek, so there's no chance of standing on a level surface to do work. Of course, there are parts of the hill that aren't so daunting, but, as luck would have it, those aren't the areas that need upkeep.
Anyway, here we are, lovely weekday afternoon in the yard, my dad happily trimming away while I clean up any refuse. Suddenly, he pulls the slack of the extension cord, wraps it around his body, and then tosses me the remainder.
So, just to further elucidate, my father, sixty-some-years-old, is currently harnessed along the side of a hill face by the equivalent of three extension cords. If any of my neighbors were watching our little tag team, they'd see a diminutive Asian girl in a cable-knit cap, restraining an even smaller Asian man, wielding a mini-chainsaw, occasionally calling over his shoulder:
Meanwhile, stupidly, the only thing I can think of is, "This can't be up to OSHA standards."
Internalizing yourself in my thoughts and haunting me for the rest of my life. Well played, Professor Murphy.
Until the next.
