How pathetic is it when I need to go to work to recover from my weekend? Like many weekends, it was chock-full of activities done at Warp Speed. These included:
In my minds eye I envision gardening done with wide-brimmed straw hats tied fetchingly to the side of the face. A large open basket for laying freshly cut flowers and pristine white gardening gloves embroidered with small roses and ivy.
In reality I am wearing scuzzy pants, a t-shirt, my old tennis shoes, now caked in mud and relegated to outdoor work. I might be wearing gloves, but they look like they belonged to Grizzly Adams and there is a huge chunk missing from the thumb when I whacked them with industrial sized clippers last year. I am often reminded (after forgetting) that these are not the gloves best suited for removing thistles.
Because of the thirty days and thirty nights of rain, gardening has been relegated to working wherever we think we won't sink up to our armpits in mud. Shovel in hand, we begin the Commando Two-Step:
You put the Hosta in -- You take the Hosta out
You pull a weed or two -- Then you hear the Tuna shout
You curse the wretched thistles as you pull the prickers out
That's what it's all about
It was plant relocation day. This was badly needed because last Spring at about this time it was "plant, plant as fast as you can" because we were going on vacation. Now that those plants that proved they can withstand a mere 11+ inches of rain have established themselves, we're trying to make it look like we meant to put them where we put them. Which means moving them.
In between rehabbing plants we had to do the Open-House Shuffle. The art of successful open housing is to get there in the middle, scope out the food and grab a couple bites to eat, say your howdys and Keep Moving. Having a previous engagement across town helps.
Clean House Delusional Polka
This is my quest (....to follow that star...). This is my hope and my dream: That I will be able to go to bed before 3:00 am the night before vacation. I will NOT be doing laundry at 1 am! I will NOT be packing at 2:30 am! I will NOT be stumbling around Cedar Point snoring -- which is already a difficult task because just to get to Cedar Point means driving a portion of the slumber-inducing Ohio Turnpike.
I can do it. I am strong.
I have two weeks.