One More Time Shall We?

I swear I'll be the death of me yet. Yes, you read that right. Once again I have fallen, literally. It happened when I was out picking up after the little dog since the garbage can goes out tonight. Being that the little beast is less than a foot tall (not counting the ears) he seems to like to poop in "private" and that to him must be under things. One of his favorite haunts is under the potted sago palm on the back porch.

The sago palm is not really a palm but a cycad and having just looked it up on Wikipedia only now found out it's very poisonous to dogs! EEK! It also stated it was very tasty to dogs. Double EEK! So far, in the 20 plus years I'v had the plant, not one of my dogs has shown any interest in the plant thank goodness and knock on wood! I also found that:  "The Cycas revoluta, commonly known as the Sago Palm is one of the oldest species of plants that exist. They appeared on the earth during the Paleozoic Era from 350 to 250 million years ago, before the flowering plants appeared. They were dominant plants in the Mesozoic Era and coexisted with dinosaurs. For this reason these plants are sometimes referred to as “living fossils”,  and the Mesozoic Era is referred to as the “Age of Cycads”. "The oldest survivors of our planet is extremely poisonous for humans and animals if digested. Sago palms can cause liver damage, especially if the nut portion is consumed." (Source) This would explain why they survived the dinosaurs.
Duck inherited with the house.
Anyway, back to the story. Due to the abundance of rain this year and the fact that the silly (read:  lazy) gardener did not turn the sprinklers back, the back brick patio has turned into a slimy field of moss.

So I'm out there, as I said and had to bend down under the sago. Now if you've never experienced a sago, they are prickly little monsters, beautiful but the tips of the leaves are like daggers. So between bending, dodging and slime, my foot slid out from under me and I did a 190 degree flip, ending up on my back under the potted sago.

Blue immediately came over and sat on my chest which while dear, didn't facilitate my getting up. Did I mention that there's only 2 feet of space between the house and the plant? Also not the greatest for righting one's self and I couldn't use the pot to help since I'd be impaled by the dang plant!

Finally got myself sitting, leaning against the house, staring at the sago when Blue promptly planted himself on my thigh. I did eventually get up and finish poop patrol but the bruise on my back shoulder blade almost rivals the shiner I got in January. On the positive side, I didn't land in any poop-mines so that was a very good thing.

When I got back in the house I called the property manager, told her what happened and asked if the gardeners which were due to come could turn the watering times down. She said that she'd advise them. So they arrive and ask what to do. I tell them to set the timers so the water doesn't stay on so long. Then they proceed to argue with me that the rains were over, summer was almost here and the sprinklers were fine! So here I am, a woman with an ice pack strapped to her back and another held to her neck showing them the slime where I fell and still they argued. I turned around, said "fine"(while thinking something else) and went inside.

About 45 minutes later, after they finished this yard and the one behind me, the front door bell rang. Having just donned the ice packs again, I hobbled over and opened it. There's Tito the gardener who informs me he turned the timers back. Talk about wanting to "reach out and touch someone" as the old commercial said (only this time, not in a good way). But it would accomplish nothing so I simply said, once again, "fine" and closed the door. Sigh. Why do some people have to make it so difficult?



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