(no subject)

My neighbor across the road is a real Joe Handyman type and is laying his own cultured stone front walk, a process which has included cutting away asphalt and digging down more than a foot to get good bedding.  I've been sort of keeping an eye on it because I'm curious about the process.  So I innocently wandered over there after dinner to look things over and generally say howdy...

...and four hours later I was in a chair on their front lawn, bleeding from my knuckles and doing tequila shots.

I feel fine today (knuckles are smarting a bit) but that's got a lot more to do with dumb luck than good management.