As I mentioned a couple of years ago, I’m a hoer. Very few people are willing to discuss this lifestyle openly and fewer still can comprehend enjoying it, but as you probably know by now, I’m a freak. I love being a hoer.
Last week found me sweating in the hot sun at the side of the road, waving at passing cars as usual. And I’m not ashamed to admit I’ll be doing it all summer long, as often as I can. It’s a way of life for me.
But simply waving at cars seemed a little too passive, so I added pole-dancing to my repertoire just to attract a little more attention.
It was not a pretty sight.
If you’ve been following my Facebook page, you’ll know we spread approximately 10,000 pounds of compost and peat on our big vegetable garden about a month ago. Hoeing in that beautiful, fluffy soil is pure joy. Thanks to some perfectly-timed rain, almost everything has germinated, and last week it was time to put up the trellises for my snap peas and scarlet runner beans.
Since snow is unlikely (though not unheard-of) for the next couple of months, we use our snow-fence stakes to support the trellises.
(For those in warmer climates, snow fences are flexible fencing made of slats or perforated plastic and supported by six- to eight-foot-tall iron stakes pounded into the ground. During the winter the fences control drifting snow by breaking the wind slightly, which causes snow to swirl and collect on the lee side of the fence.)
If you’ve ever tried to swing a 2½ pound hand sledge over your head hard enough to drive in a tall and heavy iron stake, you’ll see the difficulty here. So, thanks to my nice soft soil, I push the stakes in first so I can reach them more comfortably with the sledge hammer.
It takes a lot of pressure to push those stakes in. Fortunately, I’m no lightweight. Put 155 pounds behind an iron stake, and it’s going somewhere… though not necessarily where you want it.
So there I am, hanging off the top of the stake with my legs drawn up to make sure I’ve got all my weight on it.
A car drives by, catching me in the act, and I start to giggle. This does not improve my balance or coordination.
No, I didn’t fall on my ass. That would have been decorous.
Instead I flailed my legs madly to maintain my balance without letting the stake topple. And I laughed harder.
Then I realized how I must look, and I lost it completely.
Since I’m apparently quite allergic to dignity, I decided this was too funny not to share. So, I give you: The Happy Hoer. (Yes, snow-fence posts are ribbed with iron protrusions every couple of inches. I’m not sure why, but I can only surmise it’s “for greater sensation”.)