Garden, soon
I don't feel like talking politics today. There are plenty of good blogs writing about stuff today like on all other days. Check my links for some ideas. I feel like talking about gardening, or the lack of it in my life. They say that life is what happens when you have other plans and so it has come to be with me and my garden plans. In short: I haven't raised a finger this spring.
The consequences: Doggie poops still looming large among the verdant greenery in the flowerbeds. The recent deluge has formed many of the plants into vase-shapes, with a big empty space in the middle, just the right size for a pooping Labrador retriever. Weeds grow head-high and luxuriant.
Had I been a real garden goddess I would have weeded, propped up plants, picked up old poops and planted new seedlings all over the place, not to talk about compost spreading. Still, nature has been very kind to the gutless slothful me and I do have white bleeding hearts nodding their heavy heads above white baby tulips, yellow wallflowers along - what else - walls, and the climbing hydrangea is veiling the Snakepit Inc. in bridal glory. The dogwood trees promise a whole milky way of flowers soon, best viewed from the roof of the house, and the peony buds are straining, straining to open next to the midnight blue sages.
It will be good, after all. I wish, oh, how I wish, that the same could be said about the U.S. political situation.