Stickers

Stickers – insidious little things. I don’t know where they came from, but it’s some place evil ruled by a malicious guy with a black heart that never beats. The same guy that brought you bull nettle. If you don’t know what bull nettle is, count yourself lucky. Nothing stings more and itches more than bare feet on a summer’s day after you’ve leapt into the middle of some of that.

Jay is busily mowing the backyard. My one job is to clean out the beds around the trees and pick up the weathered tools the former owners left behind. Yeah, yeah, so we’ve been here 5 months. We’re lazy. What can I tell you?

So, off I cheerfully trot with the city issued green waste barrel into the backyard. I grab everything close to the house and chunk it in then I make my way across the “amber waves of grain” (a term Jay uses affectionately for the Pflugerville Outback that is our backyard; he’s trying to make a case for it proving we’re super patriotic). I didn’t even reach the half way point when I can feel little pointy things tearing through my jeans up to my knees.

Clearly, my time in the yard had come to an end (well, at least until the field is reduced to grass nubbins). I tossed some more tools into the bin, marched inside, flung myself on the floor contemplating the little *insert your favorite expletive* and tried to figure out the best way to remove these vile things without getting impaled.

Of course, Jay is wearing the good gloves leaving me with a choice of mittens or something in lavender latex if I want gloves. Stickers tear right through latex. We won’t discuss how I found out.

After sitting awhile glaring, brainstorming and wondering if you could die from blood loss thanks to multiple sticker stab wounds, I came upon the solution. Tongs. I’m here to tell you metal tongs are a miracle cure for stickers. You slap those shoes down on the counter with a trash bin nearby and you too can be a sticker removing fool! Clearly I need a podcast demonstration for you guys to appreciate the brilliance of this.

Sooo… who wants to come over to my house for salad?

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