1- The sun. I’m pale as a fish belly, and I burn into a crispy crispy critter if I just think about going outside in the sun. Sunscreen doesn’t cut it, I need a burka to cover every inch of skin and a huge pair of sunglasses to cover the eye slit. After spending 6 hours in the yard today, I have approximately 378 new freckles, give or take 150, and my skin is scorched.
2- Dirt. I’m not a girly-girl, but ye gods do I loathe having dirt under my fingernails. When it’s hot, I hate wearing gloves, so it’s a lose/lose situation. Then there’s the dirt in my hair, the dirt in my mouth and eyes and clothes, on my feet, in my nose (and boogers for the next 3 days)…
3- Bees. Fuck bees, dude. Fuck. Bees. So today I was cleaning up the yard, sprayed down the dog run with a citronella spray to bring the stench level down from uninhabitable to mildly disgusting. I guess this pissed of the rabid little motherfuckers that live in the roof of my shed, because, upon re-entering said dog run to retrieve my gloves from the shed, a kamakazi bee took exception to my aforementioned pale, sunburnt skin and stung me on my shoulder. Not feeling like this was enough damage, the little douchecopter climbed into my shorts to attempt to inflict more damage on my delicate skin. This resulted in me running through the house screaming bloody murder while trying to rip my shorts off without dislodging the little shit, which is not an easy task. THEN it started zooming around the bathroom, still trying to sting things, as I squeaked an tried to shut the door. Yep. Awesome. I made it pay for it’s sins by siccing the dog on it. She batted it to the floor and stepped on it, then I ground it into the carpet with my shoe. But now I have a golfball sized welt on my shoulder that burns like hellfire, so I think the bee won in the end.
And I’m only halfway done with the yard. At least I have 5 more days free from work in order to accomplish this task. I need a drink.
Anyone have any fun stories to tell me about yard work that will make me feel better about myself? 
This is why I live in a townhome. Let the HOA dick around with all date.
Alas, I like not sharing walls
It could be worse lady…you could deal with centipedes that chase you, spiders that want to eat you and more spiders that love flinging their webs right in your path. Ooh..and you could have had what you swear is a small dinosaur but in reality an iguana cross your backyard….just as you’ve grabbed a big branch of a broken tree from a lovely hurricane. Or even better..your next door neighbors could get all the permits to build a pool in their backyard..and in ground pool…and then end up moving 6 months later..leaving the pool to stagnate and the grass to grow really, really tall.. And it could get to the point to where your cats refuse to go near the fence over by their property ’cause all sorts of crap is rustling around in the grass there..and bufo frogs have bred in the pool. And then the county sends somebody to cut the grass ’cause of the complaints..and a 1 or 2…a dozen or more snakes migrate to your yard…as you’re barefoot tending your mom’s herb garden. xD And they say living in South Florida isn’t all that hazardous. xD
Though I don’t like being chased by house centipedes..or baby spiders that are going to eat me..I’ll take them any day over web flinging spiders, iguanas, and snakes…<3 Michigan.
There is nothing more I hate than yard work. It’s sweaty, I too hate wearing the gloves, but hate digging in the dirt without them more, I can only kneel for like 5 mins before I can’t take it anymore and then fight to get comfortable for the next so many hours I’m weeding/planting/etc, oh and it’s just plain BORING. If I never planted another thing or pulled another weed, it would be too soon. I think people who claim gardening is therapeutic need to get their head checked.
Hates the yard work, hates it sooooo much. And bees? Fuck that shit. I have had 2 encounters with bees that makes me want to exterminate them dalek style.
Encounter 1: I was at a friends birthday party (way back yonder in my highschool years) and my girlfriend (at the time) and his girl friend both decided to toss his ass into the pool. Being the good friend I decided to help him out and so I grabbed my girlfriend around the waist. Well eventually the three of them fell over and landed on a bees nest. None of those fuckers got stung. I got stung 4 times. At the time I didn’t know if I was allergic to bees or not (my father is) so the first words out of my mouth were “I need to get to a hospital.” So what started as good fun ended with pain and a benedryl shot in my ass.
Encounter 2: I was living in a basement apartment with my girlfriend (at the time, different woman from encounter 1) and I kept hearing this chewing noise in the bedroom. Eventually I tracked it down to this funny tube like shape on the ceiling. Being the curious sort I pushed on the tube and it made a squishy kind of noise. Well about three seconds later the fuckers came boiling out of the ceiling and I got stung, again. Needless to say the landlord got a phone call filled with lots of profanity.
This should not be funny. This should not be funny. This should not be funny
and yet…