On the first day of spring.
I thought about transcribing the whole meltdown phone call, but I'd have had to have done it right then to get the full "crazy" and now that the blazing sun has gone down and the air has cooled (some) and I'm not sweating (much) and sobbing (uncontrollably) it's (a little) harder to muster.
And besides, Saint Tim hates the Saint Tim moniker and he'd be getting some sort of major award(s) just for coming home tonight if the events of the afternoon ever got out. Part was witnessed by a nice guy at Auto Zone...but we aren't going into it ;-).
Excessive grass clippings and an obsessive lawn (hate to admit this one too, but it's what they call me) nazi. Straight to the padded cell. And no, this is not the first time I've mowed this spring.
I don't know what this weed is called in proper company, but it's its own chapter in crazy. I spent hours (in the blazing hot sun...sweating...in case you'd forgotten) pulling this from several flower beds. Unsuccessfully.
The difference between a good yard sheep and a bad yard sheep? Lila would have had every weed (and plant) eaten in every garden and raised bed.
Seriously Ewenice. Go ahead. If you eat everything, I can turn it all back into grass. I don't love strawberries that much and I've not cooked a stalk of rhubarb in my life.
But the afternoon cooled down. I took a deep breath and watched the sheep grazing for awhile. Got some wool work done THAT I'D HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO DO IF I WASN'T SITTING ON THE MOWER! Let it go...
And sat down in the yard with Miss Ewenice, Iris and Weaslie, who was huddled next to me, because if there is one thing a Corgi understands (and fears ;-) it's a midsummer meltdown...on the first day of spring.
I thought about transcribing the whole meltdown phone call, but I'd have had to have done it right then to get the full "crazy" and now that the blazing sun has gone down and the air has cooled (some) and I'm not sweating (much) and sobbing (uncontrollably) it's (a little) harder to muster.
And besides, Saint Tim hates the Saint Tim moniker and he'd be getting some sort of major award(s) just for coming home tonight if the events of the afternoon ever got out. Part was witnessed by a nice guy at Auto Zone...but we aren't going into it ;-).
Excessive grass clippings and an obsessive lawn (hate to admit this one too, but it's what they call me) nazi. Straight to the padded cell. And no, this is not the first time I've mowed this spring.
I don't know what this weed is called in proper company, but it's its own chapter in crazy. I spent hours (in the blazing hot sun...sweating...in case you'd forgotten) pulling this from several flower beds. Unsuccessfully.
The difference between a good yard sheep and a bad yard sheep? Lila would have had every weed (and plant) eaten in every garden and raised bed.
Seriously Ewenice. Go ahead. If you eat everything, I can turn it all back into grass. I don't love strawberries that much and I've not cooked a stalk of rhubarb in my life.
But the afternoon cooled down. I took a deep breath and watched the sheep grazing for awhile. Got some wool work done THAT I'D HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO DO IF I WASN'T SITTING ON THE MOWER! Let it go...
And sat down in the yard with Miss Ewenice, Iris and Weaslie, who was huddled next to me, because if there is one thing a Corgi understands (and fears ;-) it's a midsummer meltdown...on the first day of spring.
2 comments:
I'm sorry you had a melting first day of spring. I did too! It's unfair and very strange. Good thing there are roughly 90 more days left. 90 more potentially great days. If not, hanging out with our creatures will be the balm to repair our days.
:(
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
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