I fought the rose, and the rose won

I always knew that I hated weeding, but the bodily harm that it brought to me last week was beyond what I’d signed up for. I was working near a rosebush, one that I have tangled with in the past. This one likes to reach out and scratch my neck, face, arms, anything it can get hold of really. It especially likes to do so when I am mowing the lawn. This time, however, it really got me. I managed to plunge one of its large thorns into my arm, only this time into that great big vein that runs down the upper part of your forearm. It had me snagged, and I tore away, and was surprised at the volume of really dark blood coming from the resulting hole. This took quite some time to stem, and within 30 minutes my arm had swollen quite a bit. I’ve had lots of rose bites, but this was crazy.

My arm hurt for FOUR $@#$%@ days! Four!

Now, a week later, there is a green/yellow bruise extending about 5 inches on either side of ground zero. So much so that it draws people’s attention. I’ve punctured myself with lots of thorns and things in the past but never have I had an invasion of my body met with such an immune response. Guess my vein didn’t LIKE being invaded. I can’t blame it. We are thinking of suing.

Sadly, I doubt this incident will be a sound excuse for not weeding in the future.

I’ve been trying to hire a hitman, but most are afraid to work with roses. I can’t blame them there.

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