Some pictures from today (two days of recovery time):
|Um, I think the tomato plant is done.|
|It looks like someone shot my hollyhocks with a pellet gun.|
|This made me unreasonably emotional.|
I'm showing you the nice side of the egg...
The worst part was that Brock and I were laying in bed and I heard this rock hard ice hitting the house and felt dread creeping over me and he announced confidently, "It sounds slushy! It's not that bad"
I was like "What are you TALKING about????"
Then we were silent. I was listening to the ice storm take out the month of yard work we had just labored over. Brock may have been thinking about Slurpees... or sex... he is a man after all. A few minutes went by and he was all suggestive and like, "Is that you?"
And I was all, "What are you talking about?"
And he threw back the covers and yelled "MOTH!" and we both started swatting the sheets and acting like we were being attacked by a swarm of bees.
I looked at him with one eyebrow raised and he said that he felt something tickling him "down there" and he though it was me at first but realized that something wasn't right. I started laughing and forgot that he had annoyed me only moments earlier because he was just molested by a randy moth.
Thursday morning the funny was gone and I assessed the damage and really just wanted to cry (and I hadn't even see the baby bird/egg thing yet). Good thing Thing 2 is teething and has been screaming for 2 days straight and Thing 1 is still on a manic post-birthday high and I gave up wine (and all other alcohol) two weeks ago.... I actually could see red lights flashing in my head and I could hear the "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" siren noise and hear the monotonous voice saying "System Overload. Shutting Down." I fixed it later in the evening with a glass of wine and leftover spaghetti. Fuck it. The two weeks was almost up.
The benefit of the storm kicked in today when I went out for a little zen-Johi weeding time. For me there is hardly anything more satisfying than pulling up all of the weed root. Yes, I am aware that my dork status just raised four notches. Unfortunately, my zen moment was somewhat altered by an angry shrieking Thing 2 because I forced him to sit in his
Maybe THIS made me feel empowered enough to confront one of my biggest fears:
|Look at those roots! Yeah! Don't mess with me you|
Yes, I am gardening in a dress. I'm not right.
This should not be news to you.
Peace, Love and Unicorns,