No Rock of Love Here... Only Rocks of Loathing, Disdain and Pure Unadulterated Hatred

That's right y'all.  Hatred.  The kind of hatred I had only reserved for things like coconut.  Not the flavor of coconut, the consistency.  It's a little too fingernail-like for me.  But I digress.  The rocks.  The rocks that make me lose my witness.  As you know, C and I bought our first home earlier this year.  The one thing I didn't absolutely love was the landscaping in the front yard.  Because there were rocks.  Have I said rocks yet?  Have I mentioned rocks? 

There were two beds that had about 59 bazillion pebbles of pea gravel.  That's right.  If pea gravel were money, I could have paid the United States deficit.  So this past weekend, C and I decide we've had enough and we are going to shovel the pea gravel and take it back to the pits of hell from which it came.  (Dramatic?)  Saturday morning we clean out one bed that was gravel free.  It contained two extremely dead azaleas and some weeds. 

Let me say before I launch into the fit of the century about the rocks that we were under a severe weather warning due to intense heat.  But as everyone knows, it will be February before Mississippi isn't the temperature of Satan's right hand.  So, we begin to rake the pea gravel and shovel it into the truck.  We manage to get the smaller bed completely cleaned out on Saturday.

We also cleaned out the old mulch from around those little bushes.  The space in the middle was a giant bush we cut down and dug up earlier in the day.  We plan to sod the area where the rocks were.  Sunday morning my friend Kerri was kind (demented?) enough to come help the poor little couple.  One who is me and one who has back issues.  We shovel rocks and shovel rocks and then shovel some more, all while consuming massive amounts of gatorade so as not to DIE.  We load C's truck completely down and still have 3/4 of the big bed to go.

Just a little in the truck above.  His Titan looks like it's ridin' dirty now.  Like it has a drop kit.  Very sad little Titan.  We of course have nowhere to take said rocks on a Sunday so we call around on Monday and guess what...... the dump here where I live is only open Monday-Friday from 8-2:30.  Those are the MOST convenient hours for me. Hang on so I can clean up all that sarcasm I just dripped all over.

We have since come to the conclusion that we need a dumpster.  It should be delivered on Thursday so that we can celebrate the Freedom of our country by shoveling the rocks we have been enslaved to.  In the meantime, C and I feel as though we have been hit by massive Mac trucks so MawMaw here is going to take a bath in Icy Hot.