I've been a whirlwind of landscaping prowess lately, tossing flowers and shrubs hither and yon most manfully.  Boom! -- in go the marigolds.  Wham! -- in go the root bound cuphea.  Thwap! -- the nightshade is down.  Here, feel this muscle.  Nice, eh?  You don't get muscles like these by sittin' around sippin' Tab.  Nope, you get dirty.  You get in it.  You work so hard your ears sweat.  

Previous owners of this property used railroad ties in a lot of the landscaping, and putting in the fence around the pool meant moving some around.  Me and my rippling pecs hauled a couple of 'em up the west hill after cleaning and jerking 'em end over end across the yard.  They's heavy.  8"x8" and nine feet long, sodden with creosote and century-old salt from the sweat of the Chinese laborers who laid 'em in the first place, I've got two on the hill now, leveled and backfilled with compost and soil and flowers that're just so purdy you could plotz.

An' I ain't done yet.

*****

It's a good thing I've got this outlet for my primitive urges, otherwise I might be troubled by the fact that Chuck is now dating my wife.  Yeah.  You heard me right.  Chuck.

Okay, maybe not dating, but yesterday I did get a furtive phone call from Fifi, one of Viv's co-workers, to report that the mother of my child was seen leaving the office at noon with a male journaler not myself.

You spend a week in New York with a guy and you think you know him.  Sheesh.

When Viv got home she told me that it was all on the up and up, just a lunch.  It seems Mr. Anger Mismanagement, Mr. Pissy-Pants, has gone and gotten himself a real job and so now he's a suspender-wearin' suit-buyin' San Fernando Valley Business Boy rakin' in the big bucks.  And workin' in the same building as Viv.  How conveeeenient.

Fine.

Hey Beth.  Looks like you and me got us a free ticket, babe.

Here, feel this muscle.  Nice, eh?

_________________________________