I have found that whenever I have a gigantic mess of paperwork to go through, it is much less daunting if I shove it in a cabinet for a month or so. When the deadline is approaching and I am nearly faint with anxiety, I tend to discover it is no big deal and sail through it in minutes, wondering why I was sweating it in the first place.

This morning's slew of forms was KINDERGARTEN REGISTRATION. When the manila folder arrived in the mail, even seven cups of kava tea couldn't quell my shaking hand long enough to answer the repetitive questions. Cell phone number?!? I don't know that! I don't even know how to find out what it is! "What are your child's interests?" Is that a trick question? Are they secretly trying to figure out whether or not you have a kid that is already bright enough so that he or she can be dumped into the classroom of the teacher who is unable to properly use an apostrophe? Why do they need to know that? Are they planning a class devoted to what my kid wants to do that day? Dentist forms? Are they in cahoots with the insurance companies? "How do you feel about your child beginning kindergarten?" I feel like that is none of your dang business! So what if I throw-up whenever I picture the bus driving out of sight and he doesn't even turn around to wave because he's so happy and i have to go inside and spend the day in a haze of smeary mascara and empty vodka bottles and whatever passes for daytime television on non PBS channels that I haven't seen in the past five years?

Anyway, this morning I was able to whip through those forms in three minutes flat.

And now I am trying to scientifically approach my garden's layout for the year. Which is tricky because my brain doesn't do science and math. It only does words. So reading about pH balances is akin to asking me to explain string theory. I am doing companion planting this year. Supposedly if I plant borage and marigolds, it will deter those God-awful tomato hornworms I was

 plagued with last year. Don't remember them? Oh, okay. Here's a picture. Also, lavendar will apparently confuse pests, but it also attracts bees, which while good for the garden, are not so good for the allergic gardener. I need to figure out which plants are beneficial to each other so that I can have a better crop and better quality of soil. I think I liked this better when I just shoved a bunch of stuff in the ground and hoped for the best. No, that's not true. It's actually very exciting to be plotting this. Because what if it works? How great would that be? And I want to add a strawberry patch this year, because someone in our house can tear through a pound a day. However, if I plant them in our existing garden, I need to look for a certain strain of strawberry that can handle vegetable stripped soil. If I eck out a new garden for them, I don't know that the soil will support the crop this year. Do you see the world's weight I carry on my shoulders? Believe me, I count my blessings that I get to worry about this stuff.

I am making beer bread this weekend. I will have the answer to my question: will it taste like beer?