The temperature was in the 90's. The heat was in the 100's. The air was thick and cloying. Sweat glistened (and ran) on every surface of my skin. The muscles rippled on the man........as he whipped the cord back and forth against the hot metal beast that frustrated my every effort.
Yes, I'm describing an evening spent with my neighbor's husband weed-eating the killer weeds that have taken over the community garden----what did you think I was describing????
I've not had such a delightful evening on such a bad-ass hot day in years!!! It is a memory that I must retain--therefore---I blog.
The evening was just as hot and muggy as I described above. But my hero, Pete, was up for helping me attack the weeds that some of our hapless gardeners just don't know how to control. (No one else showed up to help-just Pete and me)
We would have been able to accomplish twice as much if Pete hadn't had to stop every 15 minutes and restart the weed-eater for me. First, I couldn't start it --of course Pete being the gracious man he is-----told me I was worthless---and went on to start the flooded weed-eater. (He may not have said those words out loud---but I know he was thinking it---most of the
evening :) Then the string kept breaking as I hit stakes and got string from the nets wound around the weed-eater. It was really rather comical.
But we persevered for two hours until the sun set and the light was gone. We were both covered from head to foot in green plant particles---most of it weed pollen. I toweled as much of the green stuff off of my legs as I could while Pete took a wet rag and ran it down his rippled chest and over the rest of his muscled body................oh, pardon me.........I was fantasizing there for a minute!
We were riding in Peter's prize red pick-up truck so I knew that I had to get as much grass off my being as possible---lest I mar the pristine cleanness of his vehicle. Peter offered me the cleaned rag, wet with water, so I was able to remove most of the mess. Then he told me my hair looked like hell. (thank you Peter!) I even took off my shoes and socks and threw them in the back of the truck so I wouldn't get the cab full of grass clippings.
After combing my fingers through my sweaty, damp hair we were off driving in his beast, windows wide open to let in the hot summer air while he had a smoke. (Man, I felt like I was back in high school cruising Main Street checking out hot guys!!!) (Of course, Pete didn't know I was doing that:)
I noted that Pete was taking the long route home, but I didn't say anything as he was gracious enough to spend two hours getting dirty with me. When he turned the wrong direction, I started wondering what he was up to. He told me he had to make a stop at Wal-mart. There was no way I was getting out of the truck with my green-tinged body, wild hair, and bare feet.
Well Pete pulled up to the local Sheridan's Ice Cream stand where a million other persons were gathered for some custard coolness. Did I stay hiding in the truck?? No way! There was ice cream to be had--and Pete was paying!! It didn't matter that I was barefoot, dirty, and wild haired! These people didn't know me (once you're over 50 you begin to realize that you don't have to give a fig what other people think of you!! It's so freeing to let go of that crap!!)
Pete enjoyed letting everyone around us know that he was out with a woman who was not his wife......and I enjoyed the ice cream.
Ahhhh.............Hot Summer Nights................I wonder if Pete knows that he started a new tradition?? Once the temperature hits 100 degrees on a hot summer night, I'll be found sitting in the cab of his truck, honking the horn, until he takes me out for ice cream!!
