Gonna Go Play in the Dirt

Gah! I watched the three-hour Survivor finale last night. Cirie couldn't win, which was obvious right away since she couldn't get that dang fire to burn high enough in the first thirty minutes. But did I quit watching there? No! I stayed with it, I survived. All the way to seeing Danielle win immunity (!) and make it to the final two. Then the other deserving member, Terry, was booted off. Why did I watch this? It wasn't like there was nothing else on! Oh well, at least Terry and Cirie got new cars. And at least Danielle didn't win.

Meanwhile, I was missing the finales of West Wing, Desperate Housewives, and Grey's Anatomy. Tomcat taped those for us, so don't tell me what happened!

Then I got an email from Grace, the artist, which said "OMG! Did you see Grey's Anatomy?" No. I was watching Shane being a jerk at Tribal Council.

So today I'm gonna go play in the dirt. Grace, the gardener, is going to help me pick out some plants for the front flower beds at Maxwell House. Tomcat and I prepared the beds on Saturday. I don't think we did it right, even though I had emailed and called Grace for days for instructions on compost-to-soil ratios and stuff like that. When we were finished, I called her to ask whether to put the mulch down then, or wait 'til after we put the plants in (wait.)

Then when I told her that I bought too much soil and had lots of bags left over, she said, "How can you get too much --" but then she didn't finish the sentence. She sounded a tad, um, exasperated. See, this is why I don't think we did it right.

I'm taking up gardening in my 50s (a late bloomer.) Tomcat and I spent most of Sunday in recovery. Well, Tomcat did get out and mow the front and back yards yesterday. He said this whole weekend - schlepping dirt around in a wheelbarrow and digging and mixing compost into flower beds and mowing and trimming - was conduct unbecoming an Episcopalian.

We're going to be moving over to Maxwell House in a couple of weeks. Can we survive? Wait - don't tell me!