What Grampa would call, "a little light yard work"

At one time when I was obviously insane, I wanted to live on a farm.

One stump removal (half completed) later, the full extent of my former affliction has become terrifying clear. The end of the weekend finds me with an aching back, sunburn, and a yawning void in my backyard. Had the roots gone any deeper, I'd have a new water well by now. (I typed these words as best I could with the blistered, crabbed claws that used to be my hands, so please excuse any typos.)