When the Going Gets Tough

As I meditatively clipped the raspberry bushes yesterday while basking in the warm spring sun, a distinct thought occurred to me: "Am I going to love working out here this much even when it is pouring down rain?" Well, today was that day.

We knew we had to get a little more done today, to prepare for the manure we will get on Tuesday (which is supposed to be another rainy day), so when we woke up and saw the gray clouds we heaved a little sigh. After breakfast we donned our rubber boots, each strapped a bundled baby on our backs, and headed out back. I, in my infinite naivety optimism, assumed that this task of measuring and staking out the garden plot that we are going to use this season would be quick. Rich had drawn up the design very anally carefully, I had critiqued it we had discussed it several times, and it seemed we had a plan that would be easy to execute and aesthetically pleasing to both of us.


Somehow these undertakings never perform as smoothly or with as low of blood pressure as I would appreciate. Somehow I get my panties in a bunch and get myself all frustrated and overly critical over silly little nothings.


A knock-knock joke**, to illustrate what I'm trying to say:

Me: "Knock-Knock"
You: "Who's there?"
Me: "Control freak"
You: (about to take a breath)
Me: (before you have a chance to respond) "Now you're supposed to say 'control freak, who?' "

Yah. That's me.

Lets just say that I was secretly glad that it began raining enough that it warranted me taking Kiran into the house to keep him dry, so that I could save face and manage to not be any more annoying than I was already being.

So, despite my nay-saying and poo-pooing his plan, Rich has managed to stake out our beautiful and interesting garden plot, and get it ready for poop-spreading.



**Courtesy of Leah