It's true and it would be nice if I could blame it on someone dangling stuff in front of my face. The reality, however, is that I have a thousand ideas bouncing around in my head at any given moment and can only follow through on those ideas when I'm supposed to be doing something else.
For instance, I'm supposed to be sewing up those post Easter dresses. Instead, all the fabric lies neatly in their flat rate boxes while I am practically teeming with gardening energy.
But can you blame me?? I have not one but two whole strawberries growing on my back porch.
Naturally, this means I must plant more. Suddenly, I am convinced that I do not in fact have a black thumb and that I possess the knowledge, power, and superhuman, super tight superhero costume wear mega strength to go all Laura Ingalls Wilder and provide my family with food grown with my magic, stuff growing fingers.
So before I wake up and realize that I did the same thing last year and only had a Charlie Brown rosemary tree and an unknown mystery pink, not-a-petunia looking plant to show for it, I took my happy behind out in the backyard and made all my precious little John Deere dreams come true.
May I present, La La la la lola?
Green stuff! YAY!!! I probably planted stuff entirely too close to each other especially considering how vine-y some of my choices are but whatever, live, learn, and buy your produce at Kroger, amiright?
The one thing I can't manage to get over though is the startling realization that I am, in fact, a complete and utter priss. Yes, I attacked the ground and the crap that was in it with gusto. However, I was also prancing around in my old navy shorts and bargain basement wally world sneaks like I was terrified something under the soil would jump out and eat my face. YES THIS IS A REAL FEAR! It didn't help that within mere seconds of lifting up one of those bricks, something slithery and gross meandered its way over the dirt.
Uhm, eww like for real and stuff.
I resisted the urge to flick it out of my precious little garden as if it were some kind of intruder that dare enter into my sacred, hallowed growing things ground. After all, earthworms are good for gardens, good for earth, or something so why do they have to look so ::doubleshiver:: gross?
I'm sorry, what was I saying?
Oh yes, do you know how long it takes to plant crap when you stop to brush off your hands every five minutes? This is particularly true when you can't bring yourself to brush them off on your person. It also adds to your gardening time when you refuse to sit directly on the ground and instead, choose to waste precious time considering your newly laid brick border for the best seating location to reach all your plants. We mustn't seat our precious heinie on the disgusting dirt stuff, you know. It's bad enough I'll have to wash my hands. I do not want to have to wash my knees, socks, or anything else really. Sure, I could buy a kneeler but I shouldn't have bought the plants either.
I'm actually quite ashamed of myself really and yet proud all at the same time.
After all, for all my wussiness, I have a purty garden to show for it.
Tomorrow I'll be planting flower seeds and I'll do my best to be less of a prissy heifer about it. After all, there's nothing prissier than enjoying a nice long soak in raspberry scented bubbles. Then all balance will be restored.