I'm Only One Fat, Diabetic Old Woman

Which is why I am inordinately proud of myself for taming the old shed and wrestling it into the dumpster. I had to practically take the thing apart bolt by bolt in order to fit it into the tiny dumpster. Look at the before and after:

The foundation frame is proving to be much more of a problem. For one thing, my old crippled ass cannot bend over for long periods of time and for another thing, I couldn't get the men who live here to lift it. Oh no, they couldn't do that. They had to be all manly after coming home from work and being shown up by the old, fat woman with heart failure and take apart the frame themselves.

They got half of it done before they gave up. And, as you can see, it isn't lifted. They have promised to pick it up before they leave for work today but I suspect that they won't because they are really discomforted by the fact that I took down the shed all by my weak little self.

And finally, a moment of silence for those who were killed in service to our new shed. Four beautiful, healthy hostas made their big, bushy homes up against the old shed. A week ago they graced us with lovely, long purple flowers. One even had high contrasting variegated leaves for our viewing pleasure. What you see now is all that remains. I think that perhaps, that very first one may come back strong next year. The other three. . . goodbye strong and hearty hostas. I'll miss you.