We were out early Sunday morning poking around in the garden. I can't seem to stay away from it even though there's not all that much happening yet. The only thing we're eating right now is lettuce. I'm itching to start planting, itching to get going. I want some fresh veggie's NOW.
Anyway, SM and I were talking about this and that, he with a cup of coffee in hand. Me? I'd already consumed my daily dose of Diet Mt Dew. I noticed the PVC piping for the hoop was still up.
"Well, I guess we're done with any frost risk. Might as well take these down." I said yanking on one of the ends.
It pulled up easily as did all the rest of them except one end. I strained to yank it out but it wasn't going anywhere. I asked SM to give it a try. Nope. SM said he needed to loosen the screw that held the strap in place. Which he did. And as he walked the PVC pipe over to me I said "Thanks, Charlie!"
"Who's Charlie?" SM asked
"Charlie's my yard bitch." I said with a grin.
"You know, like James is my driver. Home James." I continued.
Later that morning, we decided to head over to Walmart mostly because I needed yard staples to hold down the fabric before mulching and also because I wanted to make SM an Italian Pasta Salad. And I wanted some shrooms, broccoli and cauliflower and shredded Parmesan cheese for it.
We grabbed a cart and headed over to the garden section. I made a grab for several of the 40 pack size while SM grabbed the 10 pack of staples.
"How many of these things do you need?" He asked quizzing me.
"Why do I have to explain everything 5 times?" I asked exasperated. "Didn't you see that huge roll of fabric I bought at Sams Club the other day? 250 feet of fabric! Didn't we just spread out a little, bitty patch of mulch yesterday? Don't you know how much more work we've still got to do back there?"
"Charlie doesn't like it when you yell." SM says making me laugh. "If you're not careful Chuck will come around."
"Chuck huh? I'm not afraid of Chuck." I quip. "Chuck me? I ask.
"Chuck you!" SM replies.
Later that day SM is changing the oil in my Jeep. "How's it going?" I ask as I survey the situation.
"Charlie says he'll have your Jeep up and running in no time." SM repiled.
"Charlie huh? I thought this would be a Chuck job." I observed.
"Heck no, Chuck would tell you to go to Jiffy Lube and change your own damn oil." SM shoots back.
Good thing Chuck doesn't hang out here all that often.
Chuck could get hurt.