I spent the last three days in the garden, weeding, hoeing, and planting. I transferred the lilies in front to the pond and replaced them with pink clematis; tore out a bunch of mint to make room for my lavender; tore up the peppery arugula and planted more spinach and lettuce in their wake. I hoed up the section where the onions were supposed to grow but did not and replaced them with eggplant, and caged all my tomatoes and weeded around the base of each plant. I planted asparagus and blackberries in the “wild” section of the garden. Finally, I mowed the damn lawn and trimmed the enormous hedges in front. When I turned the sprinkler on for the garden last night, I stood and watched the birds fly through the spray and play in the puddles.
Saturday I took Ethan to spend the night at grandma’s house with his cousins and walked downtown for a food festival. I listened to a lot of good regional music, briefly ran into Dr. B. in the crush of the crowd, and ate sushi (with shrimp and crab! Me!) while listening to a reggae band.
Last night, the pseudo-roommate’s (Lori) boyfriend (Dave) brought us a hammock that his mom had bought and found she had no room for. We put it together and went about stretching the cotton out. The two of us full grown women laid on this thing fully outstretched until our butts grazed against the bottom bar and got out and did it again. We took blankets outside, doused ourselves with mosquito repellant, and lay on the hammock with Ethan nestled between us, watching the stars come out and airplanes leave trails across the sky.
My back hurts. My neck hurts. My eyes hurt. My arms hurt. Ouch. Last night I dreamed about summer squash and zucchini. This morning, I was awoken by a cardinal perched on a tomato cage, singing his little heart out right outside my bedroom window.
This morning, I’ll be out there weeding and hoeing and whatnot before class. Gardening is some hard work. For some reason, I thought I could do it from the couch.