I have a hard time some evenings, choosing between this diary, and that journal. Lessons that I want to turn into forever memories go here -- random bubbles of giddinness go there, right?
Mostly.
And then today, a day surrounded by those friends, I must recount there...
...but it was so glorious I forever want to engrave it here.
So on evenings like this, I cut and paste.
You'll simply have to forgive me.
Peering out me window...
[ mood | thrilled and achy ]
... I see a marked difference from this morning, and not all of it is in the slant of light.
I can't wait to see the photographic re-enactment of the hunt for ice cream and an axe.
The 112L of topsoil did not arrive today, despite numerous re-confirmations over the course of last week, but aside from that and a little initial trepidation; everything went better than planned.
The now-infamous archdiva and "I'm never going to fuck you to shut you up" Mel, got along wonderfully with the viking horde, and six times the usual crepe recipe was consumed in between blinks of my not-yet-sunburned eyelids, followed by ice cream, followed by hand-fried popadoms (that would be valgarth's hand, in case anyone is looking to hire an occasional kitchen viking I hear a certain lady might be hiring him out cheap), followed by two whole swiss chalet chickens.
In between mouthfuls of fowl, sand_eman and James, now forever after known to me as Edge-man, worked tirelessly with axe (the hunt was a success) and five-pound sledge, and throughout the day, gafaunt, parsifal, isobel80, belphoebe, super_dee, orkillme, nocturnalia, worked tirelessly at just about everything else. From planting to giggling to lounging to eating to adventuring to supervising my gleeful attempts with the circular saw.
We edge, we pounded, we dug, we conquered, and the overly ambitious armfuls of perennials that had cajoled their way into my caravan at countless nurseries all found their own places in last year's prepared earth, and whilst yesterday's hurried weeding and tilling turned out to be somewhat for naught -- the vegetable seedlings are still bravely holding their own on the picnic table, watered, ready, any minute now -- for the 112L of topsoil to be dumped on our driveway tomorrow.
While Dave and I are both at work. At some indeterminate time over the course of the day.
Which means, that tomorrow evening's plans look much like this morning's.
I plan to buy a load of food (there's still charcoal from last year's barbecue), drumsticks and zucchini and portobello mushrooms and corn, start up the first barbecue of the season, and hope that some of today's intrepid gardeners have the strength to return for tomorrow's re-enactment which will either consist of copious eating and drinking -- or copious eating, drinking, shovelling, wheel-barrowing, and veggie-planting.
AND maybe some watering, seeding, lounging, and more drinking.
Heh. All in all -- today was one of the glorious ones.