Sunday, July 16, 2006

Of Mice and Women

Truly, I should know better than to try and make enthusiastic plans for my days - they are invariably foiled and I end up doing something that is the polar opposite of what I'd intended. Take the past couple of days, for example (and you can, I am sooo sick right now) We had a wedding on Saturday, followed by me meeting with some prospective new clients till almost seven. In my never-ending quest to do what I can to our 'yard', I headed over to some friends' new house to collect any plants they might have been getting rid of. Yeah! I was met with a veritable bonanza of different succulents, agapanthis, and other free goodies - so I managed to talk Scott into driving round the corner so I could load them up. Note: This negotiation was only slightly less difficult and hostile than a N.A.F.T.A. meeting - I take full responsibility for this, since I broke the Eighth Commandment of Wifedom,

"Thou shalt not disturb the watching of a sporting television program, on penalty of much painful whinging, yea verily, that it may go well with ye and ye shall not have to hear complaining all night about how you do not taketh care of thine husband. Even tho' you haveth the DVR and he doth not misseth a second, you have broken this, the Eighth Commandment of Wifedom, and are therefore doomed to watch ESPN or SportCenter forever and ever, amen."

I unloaded and washed out the liner of the Xterra in semi-darkness, but I wasn't concerned - I was going to get up early on Sunday and Work In the Yard! Yeah right! I spent the better part of Sunday frantically searching for Fynn - the little bugger had escaped out one of our windows (he broke through the screen). While he had a leisurely four-hour nap atop our shed, I was busy running around, envisioning all sorts of grisly scenes. Such is the downside of having a very active imagination, I fear. The weather was at approximately, oh, eight...thousand degrees, so searching all over my neighborhood was a sweaty, dusty, panic-laced business - I'm sure I confirmed my "Crazy Cat Lady" status a few times, what with the running around calling, "Fynn? Fynn-jamin? Fynnjamin Bug Bart Little Pea Hampton*...where are you?" *His full name.

When I'd recovered and cleaned him (and myself) up, it was Time to Go to the French Festival, and then our Sunday services. Poof! Four hours later, I found myself weeding, shoveling, transplanting and the dark. Keep in mind that it was still at least 70+ degrees - and remember that I'd been wanting to plant these things for days already.

Scott popped his head out, watched me struggle with the position of the metal archway for a minute or two and made the following remarks:

"Babe, have you ever heard that R.E.M. song 'Gardening at Night' "?**

(Dig, dig, pant, pant, sweat, sweat) "Mmmmmm....Nope." (Door closes)

Ten minutes later:

(Door opens) "Babe, do you wanna come in and watch this thing about global warming"?

(Dig, dig, pant, pant, sweat, sweat) "Do I appear to be chilly? The last thing I want to hear about at this point is global warming. Gaahhhhhh!" and thus went my weekend. Due to Lovely New Smoking Neighbors, I'm now nursing a raging sore throat, fever (makes for some tripPy dreams) and chills. The best-laid plans....


**Gardening At Night - R.E.M.
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
Just didn't seem to be too real
The yard is nothing but a fence, the sun just hurts my eyes
Somewhere it must be time for penitence. Gardening at night is never where
Gardening at night, gardening at night, gardening at night
The neighbors go to bed at ten
Call the prayer line for a change
The charge is changing every month
They said it couldn't be arranged

We ankled up the garbage sound, but they were busy in the rows
We fell up, not to see the sun, gardening at night just didn't grow
I see your money on the floor, I felt the pocket change
Though all the feelings that broke through that door
Just didn't seem to be too real
Gardening at night, gardening at night, gardening at night



Chiada said...

As with most R.E.M. songs, that hardly makes any sense at all.

As for the night-gardening: I salute you!! LOL I am guilty too. This post, despite the sad ending of you getting sick (poor Boo-Boo!!), is so funny. I can totally picture the Sighing H opening the door and making remarks. Hehehe. As for the 8th Commandment, oh puh-leeeze!! Again, poor you.

Meepers said...

Yes, well, not making any sense at all (except for to those who wrote the song) is one of the tenets of Band-dom. Trust me on this one (ha!)
I'm SOO pissed that I'm sick - I signed on to work all week, and a big chunk of the next two weeks, at the office. Plus I have all these new potential clients that I"m trying to do stuff for - ahhhhh! No time to get better! Plus, I still have plants that are just sitting on top of dirt, which means I MUST plant them.

As soon as I get done with Urgent Care, after work.

Poor Edie got fixed today :( I feel like such a meanie, bc I made Scott take her to the vet yesterday to check on this bump on her neck, and now this!

Fizzle said...

The heat is killin'...

I admire that you even sat outdoors at any point in your day. When you're down with your yard, com'mon down to mi casita and help me do a thing or two to correct the patches of dead grass and unlandscaped messiness....