In Like A Lion

The ranunculus are starting to sprout.

I bet that’s a sentence you never thought you’d read. I certainly never expected to write it, much less write it with such a feeling of relief. I was pretty sure I’d killed my bulbs by overwatering them, at which point I became so afraid to water them that I risked killing them by not watering them enough. Luckily for me (and the bulbs) we had several days of steady drizzle to keep everything nice and moisturized. And when the weather finally dried out enough to make it worth trekking through the mud of the backyard to look at the garden beds, we discovered eight little sprouts poking up through the landscape cloth.

There’s hope for me yet.

Since it was rainy, we spent most of Saturday at the local Orchard Supply Hardware store attending mini-classes in irrigation and how-to-grow-an-herb-garden. We were the only students and the instructors seemed to be whichever unlucky clerk happened to be nearest when the time for the ‘class’ began. Nevertheless, we figured out what we would need to get in order to run some drip-irrigation to our three intended garden beds to prevent from future over/underwatering mishaps. The key to how-to-grow-an-herb-garden turns out to be Buy Dirt.

So it was not a weekend full of action or wild accomplishments. And really I have no excuse for not writing all week except that I just didn’t wanna. But then, I just didn’t wanna anything. Just wanted to nap, mostly, but I seem to have lost my napping mojo. I guess napping, like anything else, takes practice.

Today I’m making up for some of my weekend listlessness, whether I want to or not. It is the Curmudgeonly Lion’s birthday this week, so I had to make cake. And I’ve sworn off sweets for the month so it was torture,  but that seems to be pretty much par for the course this month: it’s only been twelve days and already I’ve had to fight off donuts (three times), cupcakes (twice), ice cream bars (once), and I’ve had people hand me candybars on multiple separate occasions. I guess the moral of the story is: if you want to have people lavish you with sweets, give up sweets for a month.

I’m not sure it’s helping my figure any: I’ve turned to cheese instead.

Well, if you don’t hear from me for another week, don’t be alarmed: it’s only Monday and already I’ve racked up two and a half hours of over time. It’s going to be one of those weeks.

Also I’ve (finally) discovered the local library branch and I have a book out on a one week loan. So I might be reading that instead of writing. Because deadlines.


~ by Gwydhar Gebien on March 12, 2018.

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