Ho, Ho, Hoe

Note to self: the hoe is not your friend. Step away from the hoe. Asked Tyler to show me how to run the roto-tiller to weed the rows in the garden. He said "I don't think that's a good idea for you right now . . . you know, in your condition". "What condition?" I mumbled as I tried to bend over to pick up the the hoe without doing a second-position plie (however that's spelled). Two days later and I still can't take a breath deep enough to sneeze. Imagine that - your back also effects your ability to SNEEZE! I learn so much every time I hurt myself.

After a particularly chaotic day at the ranch which my boss unfortunately witnessed, he told Tyler "I think your wife forgets she's pregnant". (Apparently pregnant people don't chase horses or dogs up and down the hills - who knew. Wonder what 'they' do when the entire animal kingdom plans a revolt . . . on the same day.)Tyler never actually told me what his response to that comment was but I'm sure it included an eye roll. Meanwhile, the bubble-bellied characiture of me needs a back rub because although I certainly haven't forgotten that I'm pregnant I'm really not sure how to accomplish everything I need to without ending up unable to sneeze for a week.

P.S. I'm still thinking the roto-tiller couldn't have possibly been a worse idea than the hoe.