The dreaded Turbo Tax software is sitting on my desk. Which means we haven't done our dreaded taxes yet. And who can blame us for putting of such a dreadful task? I don't mind paying them that much. I just don't like the , the, . . . why look at that, I can't THINK of a word bad enough to describe the complexities of the tax code. It goes beyond mere adjectives. It goes straight to that little place in the center of the brain that when it feels threatened, wants to tear something's head off. I forget what it's called right now. But that's the part of my brain that dislikes paperwork from hell.
But enough of that.
I pulled, and piled, and hauled to the trash, three big white buckets of weeds from the beds today, and as a reward, got out my gladiolus bulbs and planted them all. Well over 2 dozen of them. Some were dug up last fall, and some I bought new this year. Bright red ones. I scattered them all over the place in my usual carefully thought out and meticulously planned way....
(Ha!)
For once, he's right. I cannot defend myself. It's true. I am a random gardener.
"Hello, my name is Yetzirah, and I am a random gardener." GASP!
Well, I gotta git. The Pragmatist is headed over here, and I need to go warm up my knitting needles. We have stitching to do!