We Grow Too Soon Old, And Too Late Smart

My grandmother used to have a tape dispenser sitting on her kitchen shelf - bright orange and tole painted in the classic Pennsylvania Dutch style (wish I had that now). On the side of it, in ornate lettering, it said "We Grow Too Soon Old, And Too Late Smart".
Oh...how true.
This morning my Sweety and I decided to tame the Bewilderness (backyard). So armed with a whip and a chair and a few sticks of TNT (mower, weed-eater and loppers) we set out on the offensive. I geared up the strimmer while he grunted and shouted and showed his muscles to some huge pieces of wood left when we had a tree taken out last winter. I watched, quite impressed, as he took a splitting maul and gave it go. After two swings, which ended with a dull "thunk" sound, his eyes were popping and I could hear his brain reverberating off his skull.
I, meanwhile, made pretty good headway with the weed-eater and the loppers.  By the time I was finished (actually I was finished - the yard, alas, had a long way to go), I was shaking and weak.
Sweety, meanwhile, had fired up the lawn mower and mowed down the scrawniest of the 3' tall weeds that comprise the (ahem)  "lawn".
We paused for a break and, looking at each other decided our best plan of action was a "Free Firewood - You Haul" sign and a couple of strong kids in need of spending money.
So here I sit, showered, hydrated, and much wiser, dreaming up designs to create at my bead table. Sweety is pouring himself a tall, cool something and the Bewilderness is roaring it's triumph.