Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Another 80 degree weekend.
Later on, the Mrs returns home from her weekend hunting trip at the various grocery stores around our territories. The Tumultuous Tyrants of Turpitude were happy to see their favorite target up and moving as well. Pummeling a prone lump of moaning flesh is not quite the challenge they are used to. Within minutes, the 7 billion cubic feet of triple ground hardwood mulch I ordered arrived and the mile-long drive was covered with an avalanche of the musky smelling material. That was the cue to start cleaning out the flower, herb and garden beds so that I could start with that unending task. I did get a bit of the leftover wood moved to the back-50 before the mulch arrived so I did have one bit of good luck.
While the ever helpful Mrs assisted me in denuding the flower beds, the Tyrants played in the sand-pit and demanded to be pushed on the swings every 15 seconds or so. After an extended lesson in 'please' and other niceties (lost on them was the understanding of this, just the mechanics were retained), I turned my attention to the Agricultural Sector. It was nicely tilled so I set to the task of getting the cucumber mounds pulled together and the seeds planted within. The Mrs disappeared inside with the twins and dinner was started. I was left to myself to shuttle tools and such back into the garage before the sun went down and the inevitable temperature drop freezes everything solid. Not quite the success story for Saturday as I would have hoped.
Sunday, however, was a different story. I still managed to wake with an inordinate amount of pain in my thick noggin, but I shook it off and we headed out to the local Home Depot Temple. The Mrs had it right when she insisted we take the POS SuperSaturn. She knew that the limited cargo space would keep me from draining the central bank of all funds. So, we just buy pansies, daffodils, snap dragons, wax begonia and 5 bags of top soil. After stopping at the local Produce Junction for our 2 gross tons of farm product, we made the command decision to have our lunch in downtown Hatboro. If you are not from the area, imagine Mayberry, without all the politeness and snappy dressers.
After frittering away half of yet another weekend day away, the clan raced home as fast as the fission powered fuel cells in the POS SS could take us. Zipped up the Mile-Long-Drive and unloaded the booty. For the rest of the day, we spent our time planting peas, beans, romaine lettuce, spinach, nappa lettuce, broccoli, carrots, potatoes, cabbage, pumpkin, tomatoes and such. The Mrs, being as helpful as she could with her allergies, purged the herb boxes of nonessential matter allowing the chives, sage, thyme and oregano to get some precious sunlight provided warmth while I plant parsley, rosemary, french tarragon, basil and lemon grass. All the while, the Tyrants play in sandbox ... persistently requesting 'higher' pushes on the swing. The rest of the week ... well, that's just plain frustration in a bottle
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