"Would you move a jade plant for me sometime today?" I asked the Husband at breakfast this morning. "It's too heavy for me." "Maybe it's too heavy for me," he said. Was he being funny? I wondered. "I don't think so. It's heavy, but not too heavy." The Husband said nothing, merely looked at me. I continued. "I could handle it, hmpfh, if it weren't for my knees." Damn knees. Several hours later, a rustling from the front yard broke into my concentration of whatever I was focusing on, then I heard a grunt, a clapping of hands in satisfaction, the squeeking of the front door. "Do you want the jade plant in the back?" the Husband called up the stairs. "Where is it now?" "On the porch. It's heavy. I'm going to get the hand truck." Oh oh. I needed to find a temporary spot where I could tackle the jade out of its pot without trampling on anything. "I'm coming downs