My dog will eat just about anything. He likes to eat birdseed, which doesn’t digest well, and then he eats his, well, the recycled birdseed. Yuck. So I moved the bird feeder into the center of my garden plot so Judah can’t get to the fallen seed. I put up fence posts yesterday; today, as soon as it got light, Carl and I went out and put fencing on the posts so as to keep the dog and rabbits away from the veggies and birdfeeder. I made a “gate” so we can get in and out of the garden, so now it’s all ready for seed. As a matter of fact, this morning I put in six asparagus crowns and 80 onion bulbs, so the seeding process has started.
Wait a minute. Did I just say this was “my” garden? This wasn’t supposed to be my garden. It was Carl’s idea to have a garden, a place where he could spend time with the girls and teach them the things his folks taught him. But because of his job, classes and PTA responsibilities, getting the garden started fell to me. But that’s what spouses are for, to pick up the slack when the other gets overwhelmed. And poor Carl is overwhelmed. His boss and his boss’s boss (the department head) put Carl on some project that’s due mid-April and he’s been stuck in meetings that last sometimes until 6 pm. Then he has to come home and do homework and PTA stuff. Well, not so much PTA stuff now that carnival is over, but he still has lots of homework. Plus, somehow he got pegged to be the guy who compiles everyone’s pictures from Brazil and put them on DVDs, so everyone can have a copy. Everybody, all together: AAWWWW, poor CAAARRRL!!! Thank you.
But I must admit, it feels good to know that I’m actually helping Carl get things done. I finished the river rock project – that was a nasty one. When I bought the rock, the guy put too much rock in the pickup and I was afraid I was going to blow a tire on the way home. But I made it, and got most of the rock off the truck by the time Carl got home from work. He helped me get the rest of it off and spread around, and it looks really nice. And we were done in time to watch North Carolina ROB the championship from Illinois. Good grief, what was up with the referees? Sean May threw I don’t know how many elbows at Roger Powell (knocked him on his butt once) and he NEVER GOT CALLED FOR THE FOULS!!! But if James Augustine so much as breathed heavy on an opposing player he got called for the foul, and eventually fouled out without scoring a point. I was NOT a happy camper Monday night. But I’m happy now. The garden is tilled, the sod clods removed and dumped in a hole that needed filled, the planting has started, the feeder’s been moved, the fence and posts are up, the rock is down in the ditch, the truck has been washed and my “to-do” list is empty. I can finally relax.
You’ll find me in my painting studio. Of course.