The big difference!

As previously stated, you'd think that for a person who has been journaling forever, the transition to blogging should be easy.  My absense of days should prove that it is not.  I have been consumed with turmoil.  I was not sure how to proceed.  I began to admire those whose lives were open books...

As you can see, Arnie and I are down in the dumps...bummed waaaaaaaaaay out

The problem?  We are not men.

Oh, that's not to say that Arnie wasn't born a man, but his problems are similar. I was born without cohones, he was born without opposable thumbs.  Translation:  when life demands, we cannot A) Go golfing, B) Start the tractor and pretend you are working, C) Jump in your car and go to the lake and sail.

The problem:  Our home, as beloved as it may be, is on top of a hill.  All points are down.  I'm beginning to think that the entire farm must have been a pig farm, since the soil is fertile and lush.  All things, with the exception of these: 

Mark's tomatoes, grow and produce so quickly you can hear them grow. 

Thus the weeds on the shady perennial garden quickly overtook the perennials.  Mark decided that all plants should be removed and river rock substituted.  He got an estimate for the retaining wall and river rock:  $3,000.

Now, I have not been penny pinching for years only to spend the proceeds on a truck load of rocks, darn it.  I had no alternative solution, so I begged a little time to think while I pulled weeds and transplanted the perennials to other places on our property. 

Permission granted.

First I got one of these:

Mine is a knock-off of the Weasel.  It was only $19.99 at Home Depot and I was amazed at how nicely it worked.  Since the heat was oppressive and the garden is about 750 square feet, like Rome, it wasn't completed in a day.  I worked a few hours before the heat and a few hours in the evening, after the heat.  I would say that I worked my buns off, but at last glimpse, they were still there!

On Thursday, Mark pretended that he saw nothing.  On Friday, when I was out working before he left for work, he just got in his car and left without a word.  That night, instead of helping me, he jumped on the tractor and cut grass up to the edge of the flower bed.

Saturday, it was much too hot to watch me work, so he jumped in his car and went sailing. 

Sunday morning, just before the heat, he dragged Tony out of bed (6:30 AM) and they escaped by going golfing.  Since this is a gardening entry, I will say that was the last straw.

I headed for the flea market, where I found a few more plants to add to the new beds (where I wrestled with ivy and replaced the soil).  Coming home at noon, I planted as soon as the beds were in the shade and then went to my room for a healthy nap. 

That night, I tendered my resignation as gardner.  I no longer care what he does, as long as I get to golf while he does it.

Now...the big quandry, do I tell all my cyber friends and family about this?  Hmmmm

Onward and upward, life does go on.  Andy has nearly polished the paint off his new (to him - it's a '92) jeep:  It does look wonderful:

The orange blotches are reflections...the paint looks magnificent.  Here's another view:

On their way to work...together...

Yes, they work at the same bike shop.  Oh and yes, that 'thing' getting dressed in the passenger seat is Tony, my baby.  And yes, that is hair...and double yes, it's naturally curly.