There’s so much dirt under my fingernails right now that, if you didn’t know better, you’d think I moonlighted as an earthworm or something. I decided to do a little light yardwork after dinner (being as how my husband isn’t here and all) and one project turned into fifty and before I knew it I was re-planting tulips and re-locating a massive clematis that just happened to be growing right on top of a rose.
I’d show you pictures but that would require me to get up and abandon this lovely ice cream I’m currently spending time with. That’s not going to happen. What is going to happen is that we shall see whether my mad re-planting skills work on the clematis I moved. I feel like I just transplanted an organ and shall be waiting on the tips of my toes to see if this sucker’s gonna make it or croak.
I hope it makes it, but if not I won’t cry or anything. It was choking out my rose bush, so it was either the clematis or the rose. Between the two, I think moving the clematis was the only real option there.
It just occurred to me that I’m hopelessly boring sitting here talking about plants and yardwork. Unfortunately, this is about as exciting as I’m gonna get tonight so I’d better go before I cause y’all to start dozing at your desks. I can just imagine it now, your co-worker or spouse or roommate stumbles across your inert form lying prone across your keyboard and he/she takes off running down the street, flagging a policeman (who looks like a British constable) and pleading, “Stop her before she bores again!”
Let’s avoid a scene then, shall we? I just finished the first season of Prison Break and I have no desire to get shipped off the clink. I have no time to get a full-body tattoo and would probably just read it backward anyway even if I did.