You know, it’s funny. Today I’ve gotten more done than I have in two weeks–bathroom is cleaned, side bed is weeded, nandina is pruned, elevator pitch is brainstormed over, longer book summary is brainstormed over, some of the kitchen is picked up, dinner is made and eaten, and I’m going to do my taxes here in a second.
It’s one of those things where you just don’t realize how shitty you’ve felt–I mean, I whined about it, but it certainly wasn’t the worst cold I’ve ever had–until you feel good again. Now I’m all sore and happy.
It’s funny. I’m starting to really feel like this is a book, a good book. Maybe not the greatest book ever. But it’s a plausible project someone might want to publish. And people are enjoying reading it.
So, that’s cool.
Also, at this late moment, Mrs. Wigglebottom has taken up digging holes. I hope I remember that when I’m old, that you might as well go ahead and try the shit others seem to enjoy. Looks like you have the time.
Now that she’s got this hole digging nonsense down, I can only hope she’ll take after the moles. Or, hell, dig out the tunnels so the cats can take after them.
God, that would be awesome.
It took me almost no time to prune the nandina because the Butcher trimmed it up and also the holly while I was at the dealership. So, I thought I’d start on the side bed where the bluebells grow. Mostly, it’s just me in there cutting down privet, the only harmless plant in the garden that makes me believe in just concreting over everything.
But there’s also some grass in there.
Fine. I was just going to dig them up when I realized that some is not grass. Some are hyacinths. I repeat. I’ve lived here three, going on four years, and I have NEVER planted hyacinths, nor have any, that I recollect, volunteered.
Which, you know, is nice, but it means I can’t just pull up everything that has a blade-like leaf. I have to check and make sure it’s actually grass.
Which seems like a petty thing to complain about. But there it is.
In other gardening news, my roses look amazing this year. Better than they’ve looked since I’ve been here. If I can keep the bugs off them, the blooms should be great fun.
I have only one desire for today, to be out pruning the nandina and directing the Butcher in the trimming of the holly. Instead, I’ll be spending my morning letting Toyota decide if their recall really includes my car. And working on my book pitch.
Hopefully, it won’t take all day and I can come home and get in the dirt before I turn to the more unpleasant fun of doing taxes. And, god, cleaning the bathroom.