This has been a pretty perfect week for me.. When I get five days running of solid, productive, largely uninterrupted writing time–and that time has a story unfolding for me–I’m ridiculously happy.
It’s not always easy to sit inside at a keyboard when the sun’s shining (at last!), the breezes are warm and fragrant, but we do what we do. So when that effort’s rewarded by pages that seem not so bad even in a first draft, that’s celebration time around here.
My personal celebration includes getting that workout finished–a balance to sitting in front of the keyboard all day–then pouring myself an adult beverage and walking around my gardens with the dogs.
Those are happy times in my world.
To have five consecutive days of that? Perfection.
Tag a bright, beautiful, HOT Saturday onto that? A single tear of unspeakable joy trails down my cheek.
I like the hot, I like Saturdays that follow a good, productive work week. I like spending that Saturday working in the garden.
Because it’s going to be a hot one, BW and I start early. We set out hostas in an area we had cleared and mulched last season. They’ll fill some of that landscape, add some interest. He gets to dig them in while I get my big tub and start weeding and deadheading.
I like weeding. It’s mindless, again productive, and I get to see all my flowers up close and personal. Though once the temps start to rise and stick, snakes add a distress factor. I’m very snake aware (read paranoid) so the idea of coming across one while pulling weeds from a clump of dianthus adds an edge. (This has happened, more than once.)
My personal rule on seeing snakes? Make some embarrassing girlie sound, run away. If BW is around, become the classic damsel in distress and tell the man to deal with it. If he’s not around, go in the house and stay there until he is.
Fortunately my perfect week remained so as no snakes slithered into my garden.
I end up with a productive tub of weeds for the composter, and get my trowel. The two weeks or so of rain, rain, rain has my basil looking sad and pitiful. So I have new plants to replace them. But I can’t just toss them. Maybe they’ll revive, and I feel they need a chance. Not their fault, after all, and I’d feel like a murderer if I tossed them in the composter with the weeds. So I dig them up, put them in individual pots, strip off the really damaged leaves. If they pull through, I’ll have a bumper crop of basil.
The new plants look so green, so healthy–I hope they inspire the others to thrive.
BW and I discuss the right place to put the doors I got in Louisville. We think we’ve decided, but want to mull a bit more.
I move onto divide and conquer. I have tons and tons of Black-Eyed Susans, so dig some up from the clumps to try to fill in other areas around that need more.
The deer also enjoy the Susies, so we’ll spray them often. So far–and I’m knocking madly on wood–the repellant is working.
More weeding in these other areas, more digging, watering. Temps are rising, so I’m dirty, sweaty, and having such a good time.
I discover when I check and water my lower patio pots (potatoes are sprouting!) Parker, who appears to enjoy the scents, has nosed deeply into the dirt. Bad dog! We must now buy some dog repellant.
BW heads off to a parade, but I prize my garden time and stay home. While I work, birds are singing, bees humming–and I go in for another round of sunscreen as I’ve surely sweated off the first.
My peonies are popping! I walk back for clippers, take a few for a vase. I think peonies are how heaven smells. Guzzling water I take a walk around with the dogs to see if I’ve neglected or forgotten anything. I want to side dress the beds with compost, but that’s for tomorrow.
I decide, since I’m already sweaty, to do a workout–shorter than my usual routine, but let’s get that done.
Then it’s time to clean up, pour that adult beverage and sit by the water feature. To add to the delight, this lovely week, this lovely day includes time for reading–with my feet up.
Today the gardening tasks are light, and even the shoveling out of the house, neglected sorely during this perfect and productive week, won’t take much time and effort. I see more reading time, maybe outside in some dappled shade. Perhaps, since it’s a holiday weekend, we’ll add an adult beverage. Ahhhh!
I hope your weekend, however you spend it, includes some blossoms and birdsong.
And for us here in the States, let’s remember why we have this long, lovely holiday weekend. My deepest gratitude to our men and women in uniform, past, present, future, for their service and their sacrifice–and to their families and loved ones for theirs.