After Weeding on Memorial Day

Bonnie and I weeded flower beds for a couple of hours this morning. As I came in for lunch, my jeans were wet with soggy dirt at the knees and bagging at the butt; my shirt was outside my pants and spotted with dirt; my floppy sun-blocking hat was a little sweaty; and my leather, too dressy shoes were clotted with dirt. And though it wasn't noon yet, I was feeling the irresistible urge for a Bud or PBR. Yes, I am becoming my father. One could do worse. Anybody seen my pipe?