I made the aforementioned trips to Home Depot and Office Wherever (more about that one later). However, I didn’t start gardening this morning because it was 60 degrees and breezy. I realize that my northern friends would consider that downright balmy, especially in the face of upcoming blizzards. It’s too cold for my blood, at least to be outside shoveling grass.
I put the window blinds back up, moved his bed back in, put up a few other things on the walls, and pulled up all the tape. (I never mastered Heather’s cool edger thingy. It didn’t like me.) The paint job is so very not perfect, but I’m okay with that. I figure … it’s a two-year-old’s room. He’s going to ding up the paint in three days. It does look a lot better with stuff in there — the little mistakes aren’t nearly so noticeable.
I treated some fire ant beds that sprung up in spots where we forgot to spread the weed/ant killer, then watered it in. I figure I looked like an idiot, watering my lawn two days after it had rained for three days straight. Oh, well.
I dug up the grass in the front of the house where I want to put in the flowers:
I was about halfway through this job of shoveling grass and mud onto the sidewalk when I realized that I had no way to transport all of the shoveled-up grass and mud around to the back of the house to dump it here:
Hmmm…. I certainly wasn’t going to carry it one shovelful at a time. What does a good southern girl do when she finds herself in such a situation? Why, she calls her daddy, of course! And that’s just what I did.
Unfortunately, he was still at work and couldn’t bring me his garden wagon. I gave thought to using Jet’s Radio Flyer, which is currently being used to hold stuffed animals in his room. I decided I didn’t want to try to wash all the mud off of it in order to take it back in the house (and you know he would want it back in his room ASAP). Dad said he might bring the garden wagon by tonight or tomorrow. Which is fine with me. So, there the grass sits on the sidewalk. Maybe I’m just using the not-having-the-garden-wagon as an excuse to quit working for the day.
Papa John’s keeps running this commercial on TV as I sit here blogging. I’m stinkin’ exhausted. I’ll let you put two and two together and figure out what we’re probably having for dinner.