I used to do this thing on the old Blogatelle blog, Conversations With… It was one of my audience’s favorite schticks, apparently, and it was just fun, since the kids/Husband are such cards…as evidenced fifteen minutes ago when I walked out of the shower.
Me: This is the best farmer tan I’ve ever had!
Him: This is the most farmer you’ve ever been.
Well, *I* thought it was funny.
It’s true though, with nearly every available space planted with something, watering each day takes about an hour…an hour of central Florida sunshine on my arms, legs, face, neck, breastbone, and the top halves of my feet (because I wear these all the time, yes, even in the winter). So, needless to say, I’m going to look rather funny at the damned beach this year. But at least my yard will look fantabulous!
Today’s update… The strawberries and nearly ALL the flowers we started last week have sprouted. The polar bear zinnias, queen sophia marigolds, blue monday sage and the bachelor buttons have all been transplanted out to the front bed. Planted a row of leeks down the center of box #3…between all the bastard non-sprouting pepper plants. Transplanted the cucumber melon into box #2, it’ll share a cage with the lemon cukes. Also transplanted the pineapple melon into box #2 and set it up in its own cage.
You’re all fascinated by this, I can tell.
Well, with the Girlchild showing signs of…sigh…puberty, you can hardly blame me for DESPERATELY grasping for absolutely anything else on which to focus my attention. Yes, I have educated her, yes she knows what’s going on, and what to expect…but she’s EIGHT fer crissakes, and the baby, and I’m not having any more of them…AIEEEEEEEE!!1!1!112
Pardon me, must assume the fetal position now.