2005-06-06 - 4:10 p.m.
I took a whole glorious week off, during which I accomplished Relatively Little. I did manage to lock myself out of the house, leaving me with no option but to buy a medium-size frappucino at Starbucks and then proceed to spend muchos deniros (okay, about $20) and hours and hours at the nursery. I bought an 8-pack of tourenia, two impatiens and a fuschia. I adore fuschia and always have, and can now often be found outside, crouched over my one beauitful (and not cheap) fuschia, jealously guarding it from manic squirrels (which won't eat my plants, but have already smashed one of my basil plants in what was either a kamikaze mission to rob me of the good herb or a spectacular miss when leaping for the birdfeeder).
When R got home and let me into the house, I dragged him into the backyard to admire my handiwork. "That's good," he said, "But when you are going to work on the front yard?" Not needing much encouragement to go buy plants, we agreed he'd head to the nursery with me on Friday. We weren't there but five minutes when he decided I couldn't plant in the front yard yet, because he hadn't built me planters. And he didn't want to be in the nursery anyways. And couldn't we just go home? We finally compromised on a pot of herbs, thus negating the aforementioned basil which had been planted and watered, as well as a nice pot of mixed annuals to brighten up our front stoop. I also deeply coveted a hanging pot of million bells, which looked like some sort of magical plant one might see in Fairyland. But R cruelly denied me, claiming we had no spot in which to hang said pot, and when I pointed out the shepard's crook, he said "How long do these things live for? Shouldn't we spending our money on more practical things?" Alas, he is correct. Next year I shall save up and purchase me a million bell.
I spent some additional time this week outside dealing with the ailing rose bush. I savaged it, cutting off all diseased growth. Then the cat started whining, so R strapped her into her little harness and I brought her outside with me. She's normally pretty afraid of the Great Outdoors, but after gorging herself to death on grass, she settled right down again. She confidently trotted all over our property, around to the back of the house, back to the front of the house, taking some quality time to sprawl on the concrete and play with the ants. After about half an hour of this, I brought her back inside, where she promptly barfed up all the delicious grass upon which she had so lately feasted. Urp.
All in all, it was a week dedicated almost entirely to sloth and naps with the cat, and I've been far more productive at work today than I've been in a long time.
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