I swear, there is a plague that has descended upon my house and never intends to leave. There is only so much whining, fevers, crying, and bodily fluids that one woman can handle. With all that, I reached a breaking point. I try and channel my frustrations to good. I REALLY try and not take them out on anyone else. I am afraid I took it out on my shovel.
Yup, that's a bend in my shovel. Poor red, she deserved better. I used her to unearth a tree stump. Probably not the most proper tool for the job, but it served its purpose. I only took out my frustrations on her and that stump that never wanted to die.
That tree stump, the stump of a crepe myrtle that stood over 15 feet tall. It became sickly and barely produced a flower, so I cut it down, it then went crazy and tried to come back to life. I had other plans. I will show off what replaced it soon, but for now, I am mourning the fact that I have a decrepit shovel.