The Osteological Adventures of a Middle-Aged Mommy

Okay - so today the home clean-up moved back outdoors for the final sweep before the home tour. (Bonus: I had the weekend wrong so I still have another week, BUT the trash man cometh Monday, so I really need to get it all out by then).

I pruned, I pulled, I raked, I bagged it. Then I stood there in the drive and thought: "You know, if the garage just looked a little better..."

As if I wasn't already walking crooked from pure exhaustion.

A while back my boys went visiting to a ranch in Texas and came home with bags and bags of cow bones. Yes. You read that right. They collected enough bones to re-construct several cows, minus a few parts here and there. And my husband let them bring them home. To me.

Well, those big old bones have been in our (detached) garage ever since and today was the day to purge them since, you know, I was working alone and all.

Ahem.

I gathered up a few "heavy duty" (proper use of quotation marks) trash bags and headed in.

Friends, I was not put on earth for this.

I put them all in the bag before I discovered it was really too heavy to carry. No problem, I was also too tired to carry it, so I decided to just drag it out to the corner and hide it amongst all the bags of weeds and tree limbs and such. With two hands behind me, I dragged that sucker down the driveway and around the corner right up next to the other bags. Ta Da!

As I turned around to head inside for a boiling hot shower, there it was: a trail of bones all the way down the drive and out into the street and up to the pile of bags.

I considered that I might actually win the neighborhood holiday decoration contest for Halloween this year if I just left it... but we would also significantly reduce the value of our home. So, I did it all again. And then I boiled myself alive. And that is all.