After yesterday's crappy work day (starting to be the norm, unfortunately), I decided that after work today, I was going to garden for therapy.
I had noticed that the weeds were a bit out of control. I came home, changed into my overalls (waits for laughter to subside*) and tennis shoes, attached my ipod, grabbed the garden tools and the green waste trash barrel, and charged the front yard first.
The job was easy and went quickly. I was clipping branches with The Cure and Daughtry and pulling weeds with Alanis. A neighbor strolled by and even complemented me on my Sago Palm, which is flowering.
With the front mostly weed free, I watered and then headed to the back yard. I used my little rake, a Christmas present from my mother, for the first time today. It is pretty nifty; small and fits into tight places. I used the shears to trim and shape plants. I watered with the watering can, as well as the hose. I pulled up dead stuff ( I am not a very skilled gardener) and I imagined what live plant varieties would replace them; for certain it would need to be drought tolerant!
I recycled soil and re-potted some Mother-in-Law's tongue...I think that is what it is called. I checked on my Amaryllis bulb (thank you Kelly and Brady) and fed a banana to my Stag Fern (thank you Pegasus). My gloves were muddy and my mind was starting to release the day's tension when what to my wondering eyes did appear? My husband.
He was all grumpy and worn from his own rough day. His facial expression said a lot more than his voice. He regaled me with tales of firings at work, blood boiling and close-call emotional explosions. He slammed the cabinets and the oven door as he made dinner, before band rehearsal.
He had literally been home for 15 minutes and already my bliss was quelled.
He reminded me that earlier he had disclosed that our shower was having water woes and that he needed my help to conduct some experiments on the faucet. We played plumber for a little bit and it ended badly when I implored him to stop being dramatic!
He was swearing and complaining about the cost to have a professional out to look at the problem. Our plumber had moved out of the area, much to our dismay and we would have to resort to calling in a stranger. I suppose I was just tired of the stress. After all,we own a home so things will come up that we must be prepared to shell out cold hard cash to handle.
Alas, faucet not fixed, husband left upset, and here I sit with heat applied to my tightened shoulders and relaxation is but a distant memory.
I keep telling myself, remember to breathe, something I learned at a VERY young age! Tomorrow is a new day and I have a lot to look forward to this weekend!
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