I finally bought some flowers and planted them this afternoon. Usually this time of year gardening is one of the main things on my mind (The enthusiasm only lasts until the high temp reaches the low 90′s.) but this year the kitchen project is taking up most of our time and energy. But I have been thinking about it and there’s at least a 40 percent chance of rain every day for the next seven days so I thought this would be a good time.
I’ve been wishing that I had the pickup during the week to go buy plants. I used to drive it all the time but a couple of years ago we switched and now most of the time my husband drives the F150 and I drive the nice, new, reliable and formerly clean Subaru. I hated to get the back of it all dirty from carrying plants but it seems like we’re always too busy on weekends. So today I drove to Ace to get “just a few” plants and came home with the back of the car full.
I planted them all as soon as I got home and as I was gathering together the usual planting tools and figuring out where I wanted to plant everything (Plan ahead? You must be joking!) I thought, I really need to get several bags of mulch and I have to have the pickup for that.
And that’s when it hit me. The pickup is sitting right there in the driveway right next to the car. My husband has been driving his company truck for the past three days and I could have used the pickup at any time!
Yesterday I saw a guinea in our front yard, running along inside the fence (No, I’m not changing the subject; bear with me.) desperately trying to get out to join another guinea that was on the outside of the fence and equally unhappy. I knew that the silly thing would probably be scared of me and would remember that it could fly if I walked toward it so that’s what I did but instead it squeezed through a hole in the fence that was smaller than I thought it could squeeze through. Then I told my son about the incident and we both laughed about how stupid guineas are. Well, right now I don’t feel very much smarter than that guinea.
I am over 50 (Wait… really? Dammit!) but I still feel like I’m too young to be that absent minded. So what am I going to be like when I really get old? I hope I turn out to be something like Walter. He’s kinda sweet, and still smart when he really needs to be. Unfortunately, I’ll probably be the opposite – really hard to get along with and pathetically stupid.