Last year it was me muscling a massive hunk of concrete out of the ground and somehow slipping and puncturing my ankle with a rusty wire.
This year:
Emergency Room Nurse: So what happened?
eXXXtreme Gardener: I tripped over a hammock.
ERN: Ah. Those hard summer days.
EG (thinking): Damn right, be-yotch!
Actually, I was carrying fertilizer. No. Not one of those 40-pound bags. Two quart-sized bottles. But still. My hands were full and I didn't quite lift my leg high enough to clear the hammock. Thought maybe I broke my ribs. (Just bruised.)
No, I didn't even think of going around it. Sheesh! What kind of pussy do you think I am?
But seriously. Has anyone ever died from gardening?
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