I finally figured it out: it was the raking that did it. Not, as you may expect, raking leaves, little twigs, grass or pine straw. This is Arizona, a suburb with zoning restrictions, so what was getting raked was rocks.
Our back yard fills with pine straw on a monthly basis, or even more often right now since spring winds knock it down regularly. Being cheap, I've hired getting that part of the raking done but only on an annual basis. Leaves do fall off our few very young trees, and bushes need pruning, but most of that I do myself when able. It may take the whole 9 months we're usually down here, but I manage. While I'm picking up behind dogs, I may as well collect a few branches as well. None of that is why I need to rake rocks.
It's because of a couple wanna-be yard clean-up guys. The first came knocking at the door, looking to make $50 in exchange for raking the back yard pine straw and pine cones. He was hoping to afford an engagement ring. We agreed to the deal. Once he was paid, we took a better look at the yard. Yes, the stuff he agreed to remove was gone. However, the river rock beds which border the back yard had huge amounts of their rocks raked into the rest of the yard.
You may well ask, so what? Well, they're very noticeable, first of all. Some idiot previous owner had taken the rest of the back yard, covered it with uniform smaller rocks, spread out evenly and semi-flat, then cemented everything in place with a dark green coating. 'Cause, you know, they just can't give up their illusion of grass, I guess.
They may be savvy enough not to bother to try to grow it, wasting all the water and the energy to keep it mowed, but still, flat & green. So river rock stands out. It also trips you up as you walk across it without picking your way carefully. That green stuff is already bad enough and old enough that large patches of it have loosened and been removed so it's uneven enough all by itself. The river rock just makes it worse.
If that wasn't already bad, the crew for this last cleanup, including a major pruning of the pine tree clearing out swaths of branches which had died over this last record hot summer, included the otherwise unemployed brother of the head of the crew. He need to both look and be busy. We had specified before work started that we wished the yard "blown" as the final pick-up. In other words, a powered air blower lifts the light straw and leaves into a pile on top of a tarp to be hauled away. It leaves the rocks in place! But dear brother just couldn't do something that simple. Or perhaps it was he couldn't do something quite that complicated. While the pruning was going on, he was digging his rake into all the rock beds knocking everything he could reach out into the main yard. Besides leaving a rocky mess, a lot of those (expensive to replace) rocks got raked up onto the tarp and hauled away to the landfill.
But there were still a great plenty needing to be returned to their border beds. I nominated myself for the job. I could do it in small patches, and get the damn things where I really wanted them. I didn't charge for my services either, feeling my reward was both in the progress in making the yard look nicer but in getting exercise without risking covid exposure like I would walking in the pools.
I had rakes, both leaf and garden varieties, moved down here back in 2012. By now they are likely 20 years old, and wear their age. The business ends are rusty, and the wood cracked and splintery. Gloves are a must - I know! - but they still have enough strength to be useful. The leaf rake does the job without digging up more rocks, most of the time. Patches of green chunk still break off but they've been undermined over the years between wind, foot traffic, and various animals not limited to dogs. (Tunnels are plentiful.) That part I don't mind, and larger chunks get tossed under the baby mesquite tree to provide mulch. The eventual plan is to get rid of all the green and replace it with pea rock or something easier on the feet than all the sharp angles on the red rock in the front yard. We can fall, after all. We shouldn't need to worry about bleeding out while we maneuver our way to vertical again.
I have discovered a tiny benefit to the concrete-like finish over the years. It keeps water from absorbing into the ground to support weed growth. Of course, that also keeps water from soaking into the ground to keep the pine tree alive. Or other desired plantings. Weeds can be sprayed or pulled, much more economical than watering. So still going ahead with the grand plan.
Back to raking. The garden rake being too heavy for the job means the leaf rake needs to make do. It's fairly flimsy, so more arm work is needed. The first few energetic days I went to bed with mild soreness. No biggee, it was gone by morning, and after several days of raking an hour or so, no longer a problem. That was good since I still had weeks of raking to go at my rate. The flimsiness of the rake means I adapted my own technique to the job, more of a sideways sweep then a pull-to-me stroke. It took a whole lot of motion, a lot of twisting, especially as each pile of rocks grew. Initially I took a dust pan, scooped them up, and dumped them where needed in the rock beds. That was great for the bare spots - and yes, there were plenty of those. But later, quantities of remaining rocks vastly outnumbered obvious dumping spots, and those dustpans full of rocks got pretty heavy to carry. So I just kept sweeping smaller patches further in order to get close enough to the border beds that I could just sweep really widely to kick those rocks up over the brick borders and into the beds. It worked! Yesterday I managed the largest big sweeps ever. That corner of the yard is finally finished.
As am I. When I came in and sat down, it was a big relief. When I tried to stand up again, not so much. Quite the opposite, in fact. My back loudly announced that it has exactly one semi-comfortable position. None of the other possible 75 positions are it. No compromise. A full night's sleep made a big difference... until I really woke up and had to move.
I am blessed by two things. First, a large refill of the well-used bottle of ibuprofin in the bathroom. Long years of experience have taught me that I can tolerate the maximum dose of 800 mg., 4x a day. With food, of course - never a problem as long as I stay off the scale. Second, a son who understands the actual nature of the job needed and willingness, strength and time to finish the job for me.
But excuse me, I'm needed down the hall. It'll be a while before I get back, since the back position needed to properly use that perforated paper off the little white roll on the wall is a long way from being that one comfortable one I previously mentioned. Even getting there and back again uses 9 more of the 75. Then it's time for more ibuprofin, reaching for which uses 3 more, so....
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