At first it manifested itself as a low sultry voice in the back of my head. It said, "I got to lay down. I got to lay down in that sun, girl. You got to get me out there. On the porch. That's right. Ease yourself down. That's right, forget the to do list on that long sheet of green paper. That's right, lay on the belly. Easy now. Easy. That's what this is." It drugged me, that part of my brain, that small part. I made me drunk on it's sweet seduction. And I obeyed. I laid down my shovel. I laid down my spade. I laid down my watering can. And I laid down. On those warm wood planks.
And some part of my brain, some higher level organism synapse, said, "You've got work to do soldier! You've got things to plant, acres to weed, fences to build. Get to work!"
And this growly mistress, this snake in my mind, crooned, "Honey, you've got six months of digestion to catch up on, and aint nothing going to get digested without this heat on your arms, on your legs, all down your serpentine spine. You got to collect this solar power for your stomach. See, honey, how it all makes sense?"
"Excuse me." My human logician, I'll call her Eve, interrupted, "I digest daily. I don't have any such back log. I... I... I'm forgetting what I meant to say. I can't think. I can only feel. And all I feel right now is sun on my shoulders, on my elbows, on my ears. All I feel right now is good. I suppose, it wouldn't hurt to absorb some vitamin D-making sunshine for a while. That's work enough, right? Riiiiight....Thanks. Thanks for tempting me."
As my shoulders peeled in the next few days, I found my neanderthal brain. Well, first I found this hose. Just when I needed, a hose! My herb garden is not in the path of the sprinkler hoses, so it needed an off-shoot. And here it was, a gift at my feet, the hose! But, alas, this hose was not already in service for a very good reason... we'd run over it a few times for not so very good reasons such as laziness and snow-cover. So the parts of the hose that attach to other things were bent a warped. My little inner neanderthal suggested I check the garage for a tool. I stepped into the garage and lil' Miss Neander goes insane! "TOOLS! TOOLS! TOOLS! THAT's just what I need!!" She jumped up and down and rummaged through the tool box and emerged, grunting and shouting, "Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips!" And she stomped over to the hose bib and used that vice grips to screw that screwed up hose on. Then, lil' Miss Nea jumped up and down and pant-hooted when she found that it didn't even leak....which was especially exciting because that hose is NEVER coming off. Thrilling.
Now time to secure the male end to the sprinkler. And that's where the real fun began. The male end was MUCH MUCH more messed up. And after a lot of reshaping and more grunting and screwing, I got the sprinkler attached, as it were, to the hose. And now for my test run.
So.... the sprinkler is a side sprinkler now. A little trickles out the top but most of it shoots out at jet propulsion speeds from the mangled marriage of a female sprinkler and a male hose. And that's how it's going to stay, a completely messed up relationship for life.
Tools? Tools? I need to evolve a little more before I get to use those again.