Upper body workout for the day included an hour and a half in the back yard raking and picking one utterly overgrown and one merely spent and weedy raised bed with the able assistance of one granddaughter. She needed some reminding to place the weeds in the bag and the dirt in the bed. So at the second bed, she picked up handfuls of sand from the yard and dropped them into the bed. I accepted this as the lesser of two messes, but when she pressed a shred of weed-stop material and an aluminum foil "snake" to her lips, I discouraged it. "Yucky," we agreed. Aluminum snakes
We dragged the bag out front, came back for a stint on the garden swing seat, some kicking of soccer balls and some lifting of said toddler onto the bars of the climbing dome. We pulled a few more weeds out of a small growing box and discovered a fell-fledged peanut in the soil. It was immediately harvested and carried in triumph into the kitchen to be shown to PaPa, washed and placed on the window sill to dry. Then we washed dirt off hands. And face. And hair. And scraped it out of fingernails.
We earned a relaxed viewing of Thomas the Tank Engine. Next: lunch. Peanut butter and jelly, I imagine. Bon appetit.