It was so beautiful yesterday. The kind of spring day that cause me to wonder if it ever existed or is a memory I've stolen from a movie or an advertisement. Jeans and t-shirt weather. Glorious sunshine, blue skies and puffy white clouds. A little kid laughing and shrieking with the hose, drenching their sneakers and chasing daddy.
I couldn't stay away from the garden. I weeded and repaired four wheelbarrows worth of soil and rocks. I put-up chicken wire in my latest move against my rabbit foes. I planted marigolds and roma tomatoes, grape tomatoes and brandywine tomatoes. I planted yellow and green peppers. I planted oregano and basil. I cleaned-up the broccoli rabe, the broccoli, baby carrots, arugula, spinach and lettuce. I planted borage. I worked and worked and worked and it was outstanding. And then I realized my back hurt. And today I am in rehab-dictated position with a heating pad.
I should have skipped the aleve and gone straight for the prescription stuff.
And I see my garden out there, still needing me to finish weeding, still needing me to plant jalapenos, Thai chili peppers, orange peppers, cilantro, onions, soybean and corn. And I can't do a damn thing.
We visited my sister and her fiance at their Airstream yesterday, and now Mort is very vocal and intent on his desire for a "moving home." And really, no one could blame him, because it is super-cool, but eventually I had to tell him to get a job and start saving. And then Duke and I laughed and laughed.
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