Not Digging It

Oh good lord!  I thought it would be a great idea to finally weed the flower bed in my front yard after tropical storm Andrea thoroughly primed the soil and now I'm not so sure.  What started as a fairly simple project in theory ended up being an all afternoon endeavour that involved dozens of buckets, several bottles of water, and a real shovel.  I have no business using a shovel but ended up going all Joan Crawford OCD, (like when she couldn't sleep because she felt compelled to chop down a tree at 3 in the morning in Mommy Dearest), and dug up the entire twenty square feet to remove all the roots.  Now I can barely bend at the knees.  It's been two days out and I'm still hobbling along worse than someone twice my age. It's pitiful. My only consolation is that at least I won't see another weed for a few months and that maybe I might look like I have somewhat of a backside until the inflammation subsides. Forget about doing squats, just garden.