A Mule and a Plow

"Girl, you need a mule and a plow!"  This was my brother's response to my latest projects.  Sounds funny but truth be told...he's about right. Either I need a mule and a plow or I need to start my own landscaping business and finance the machinery.

Do you know how hot it was down here on Saturday and Sunday? 90 degrees on both days and what was Sistah Girl doing?  Digging and planting; digging and planting. Sweating like a stuck pig.  Took all day...both days. I was chasing wasps away from the umbrella so I could get a little shade on the patio and taking every opportunity to drink liquids and slide inside.

Brilliant ideas are fine but when the labor is yours, in the broiling sun, maybe not as brilliant as you thought they were.  While I was hauling plants, dragging the hose, and mentally laying out which plants should go where, I decided to rescue the rose bush which had become completely hidden by two bushes and transplant it.  Had to find it first. Then trim the overgrown bushes so I could locate the root.  Back to the shed for the trimmer.  I have trimmed those bushes to the bare bones and still can't figure out which stump the rose bush is growing from.  Keep in mind that this bush is probably as old as I am so differentiating between its trunk and the trunk of the adjacent bush is a problem.  I finally gave up.  That's a job for another day.

Back to the planting. Saturday was spent digging under the magnolia with the exposed roots.  If I can get some ground cover going there, eventually it will match the other side which is lush and pretty. Dig; cut roots; dig some more.  "Miss, what on earth are you doing? I'll do it for you at no charge."  I must have looked like I was going to keel over any moment. But I only had  three more plants to go.  Where was he when I really needed him?

At least I could work in the shade of the magnolia out front, but out back?  No shade. Nowhere.  And the ground was rock solid. But I got it done with a few blisters to show for the effort.  Lawd, Lawd.  The sun was going down when I finally started putting everything away.  Then the rains came.  Thank you, Jesus.  I could have stood watering that patch forever, to no avail.  The ground was just that dry. The rain continued through this morning, giving me the opportunity to take a break from killing myself.

A soaking rain, thunder and lightening, and a chirping sound coming from the computer room.  Lord, not another bird, please.  Maybe one of those frogs caught a ride in.  Whatever it is, I can't find it and it has been suspiciously quiet.  It seems as though every living thing feels as though it has a right to move in and take over.

I was trying to watch the "super moon" (covered with haze) and turned around to find that fat white cat sitting quietly, watching me.  As though he was my pet.  GIT!  The birds made a nest (within a matter of days) in the hose carrier.  The door didn't close completely.  One day it was empty; a nest on the next.  It is now permanently closed, courtesy of duct tape.  The swing doubles as a perch for the squirrels and a bird bath for the birds.  Think I'll be able to get near it?

A bird has also been seen flitting about in the shed/barn/garage.  As long as he doesn't attack, he'll be fine.  But I don't know what he'll do when I bring in the mule and plow.

If I go missing in action, just check the yard.  It will surely be death of me. Be Safe. Be Blessed.