Many folks like to work out. Me, I like to work outside. And when my garden is thick with leafy ferns in the spring and tall with lily-scented hostas about now, it’s all worthwhile. But much of the time, a yard with a garden is more about hauling than tending or even weeding. You know. Hauling dirt. Hauling mulch. Hauling plants. Hauling empty containers. Hauling chemicals, cords and clippings. Hauling yard bags. And this time of year, hauling hoses. And all too soon, hauling leaves and gumballs. Awhile back, a man I’ll call ‘Bill’ started passing by my place often and regularly enough to recognize that he walked for exercise and Kirkwood streets were his gym. One fine spring day, I was working on the mulch pile in the driveway when Bill passed by, nodding hello in that certain Midwestern-male way. “Like to help?” I asked, only half joking. Without breaking stride, he shot back, “Just bought a condo,” as if his answer explained all. It sure did, Bill, it sure did. Keep w...