The truck is clean and shines. The engine oil has been refreshed with an addition of a bottle of Marvel's Mystery Oil - even dumped a bit into the gasoline. (Its that red bottle at the auto shop.) The truck tires are stuffed full of new air and I even cleaned the friggin leaves out of my windscreen vents.
The driveway is leaf free too. I swear six tons of leaves have fallen since last week. I, of course, was careful not to allow any to escape into my neighbors yard....she's so prissy about leaves from her oak, which the winds dump onto my driveway, finding their way back into her yard. Last time we had words I told her I was certain she wanted to mulch them and only wanted to help. So instead I was careful to blow the pile deep into her shrubs. She'll never know the difference.
Earlier as I hosed clean an area of our brick walk I passed by one of my old clay pots where once a beautiful healthy basil grew. I glanced around at all the other now empty pots and felt like old cat poop at a dog show. I believe it's time for me to rebuild my herb garden....such as it was, all in pots.
I haven't a single solitary pepper plant. They've all died. I place all the blame on my six day work schedule and this friggin depression. Anyhow, it's time for change.
So, next weekend, on my day off, I shall make time and visit a local plant nursery. (They, the lovers of northern climate change, giggle. Nursery? Well yes. One of such is located but a few minutes from my front door and guess what, its open.) There I shall pick through their sorry stock and find something, some herb, to plant.
I have an itch to grow food.
It's been a short weekend.
Stephen
