It's a glorious Sunday morning in western Tennessee. I hit the yard early. I've got a lot to do. Petunias bit the dust in one of the urn planters, so they must be replaced. The other urn is looking good. Hostas are coming up around one obelisk; not around the other. Think I'm going to hang flowering baskets from them since I can't get the lights to work. What'cha think? Caladiums coming up alongside the fence but only a few around the tree. Drag another bag of mulch to the front; the roses are starting to bloom and the plantings are taking off but more mulch is needed. And the lawn on the shaded side needs to be mowed. Oh, and the faded planters need to be painted and potted up. A song in my heart; praises on my lips. Pictures, you ask? Damned camera is NOT working. Tried two new sets of batteries and no go. I am so disappointed.
Whoa! 9:30 a.m.? I've been going since 7 a.m. Time to take a break (a shower) and rest up a minute. Another cup of coffee? Nah! Need food AND coffee. And, naturally, must check the computer. What's this? A stinging response to my email re Ruben Studdard's wedding? From someone I don't even know? Sheez. Folks, wipe out the email distribution list when you are forwarding emails, why don't you?
Showered and on to the next step. At the kitchen sink when the brood goes berserk. I mean ballistic. What's up? Well, darn, here's the prettiest, sleek, black boxer/pit/something in the yard, cozying up to Ms. Floozie. Hold on, brother. You have got to go. Race outside. GIT! Did he look at me like I'd lost my mind? Took his own sweet time leaving. And I was scared to death. Big Boy is furious.
Look up and here comes Romeo with his companion, another sleek, pretty, white with black spots, dog. Where the hell are they coming from? Will they do harm to my "precious" crew? Grab the rake and I'm ready. Here they come up the front hill. Not here. Not today. Threw the trash can (it was empty and didn't go far) but between that noise and my yelling, they went away. Took their time about it, too. Real thugs. Decided Ms. Floozie needed to be inside for a moment, anyway. Wonder if they visit when I'm not here?
Got a fantastic gift from the Number One Son, rather, several gifts. One for my peace of mind; the other, for my soul. Yep, sent me a weather radio. The good kind, with a flashlight and cell phone charger. Hot damn! A Redskins magazine and medallion. Oh, glory! Tickled pink, I am. And, he got accepted for a better position. Here's praying for you, kid. And, please, he can now be addressed as Rev. Remember Flip Wilson's "Rev. Leroy"?
My mantra for the last few months has been "put off until tomorrow what you don't want to do today." But I've got a little energy, must be the thought of having all those days off this week, or could it be SF is due in town? Whatever, I'm off to do more chores. If you haven't seen this video clip on YouTube, take a gander.
An Obama Love Story