Just got outta the shower after putting in 3.5 hours ripping out some horribly overgrown shrubs that have been there since '60. *******s did NOT want to give up easily. Sliced my shins up pretty good, blew a hydro line on the backhoe, and had my trusty rusty Kubota knock my happy ass flat when I backed it closer to the bush. The blasted chute on the mower deck caught me just above the ankle and power slammed me like it was a MMA heavyweight champ. Landed like a tub of excrement and caught a stump of a branch with my forearm on the way down. Moused it up pretty good and gave me a temporary case of Tourette's syndrome.
Came inside and layed down for a minute and the Old Hen asked if I felt OK. I told her no. She took my blood pressure. 146/90. She freaked. I told her to try it again. 140/85. If she'd have tried it five minutes later, I'll guarantee it would have been right around 125/60. I've had a slow recovery time ever since I was a kid.
Watching the ****tube and typing on this laptop is what I'm doing for the rest of the day. There's always tomorrow for more hard labor. I've had enough for today.