Why I am not a manual laborer

Because it is frelling hard.

Spent six, maybe seven hours today working out in the yard:

1. Shifting two sprinkler heads in the back yard about 6 feet each so that they water the far back better and the deck not at all.
2. Dig up the old turf that is now under the deck, so that plants can be planted there.

3. Planting of many plants under and out from the deck.

4. Setting up the the drip lines and micro-sprinklers under the deck to get the plants there, but not the uprights.

And, seven hours (and four Advil) later …

1. Success! Sprinklers work and hit (and don’t hit) what they are supposed to.
2. Mostly success. Couldn’t turn over all the turf because of the overhanging deck, but got most of it.

3. Plants planted, aye!

4. Set up all the drip lines, carefully calibrated, fitted, aimed, attached … and …

   Well, hell. That zone’s not working, either.

   So I hand-watered the plants.

A good, solid day’s worth of work. At the very least, I worked off the White Fence Farms fried chicken dinner of last night.