Yesterday, we went to Theater 99 to see The Complete History of Charleston for Morons. It was very amusing, although I knew the Great Earthquake was in 1886.
Then we went to Hampton Park for the Piccolo Spoleto finale. Hot. Hot. Hot. What was the heat index? 110? Something like that. I was dressed for sitting in an over air conditioned theater, not roaming around the scorched plains of Hampton Park and wilted like the belle that I am.
And being an idiot, I decided this morning that I just had to mow the front lawn. Had to. I had told Jason not to mow it because we had several large dead patches due to grubs. We'd killed the grubs and reseeded the dead spots and I wanted the grass to grow enough to flower and seed so the dead spots would fill in faster.
Which was fine until Friday afternoon when someone not paying attention rear ended Jason's car, which is most likely totalled now. Jason's fine so far except for the usual sore muscles but I'm not 100% convinced that some neck/back trouble isn't looming over the next couple of days so I didn't want him to mow the lawn.
I did have to have him start the lawn mower the first time because I never can. Then after doing half the front yard of very tall, thick grass, I had to sit down and take on a gallon or so of water, obsess over the giant purple lump on my arm where something bit me and catch my breath enough to complain that I thought the lawn mower had self-propel.
"It does." Jason told me.
"Well, it doesn't work for shinola then." I replied.
He insisted on finishing the half of the front yard, went out, cranked up the engine and started off, walking casually behind the mower. Not even pushing at all, where I'd been pushing with my hips against it because I didn't have enough arm strength to get it through the grass.
Then I noticed he was holding down a lever that I hadn't been. Yep. The self-propel.
I'm an idiot.
But I got a heck of a work out this morning!
They are buddies again. Came home yesterday to find them snuggled up together sleeping on our bed. But. This is only true in the bedrooms and the front room. Loki is still afraid of Thor in the kitchen and back room. I'm assuming this is because those rooms are where most of "The Incident" took place. I'm also not going to worry about it. He'll get over it when he gets over it.