Telling: Streams & Logs


Happiness lives in the dirt

Worked in the garden this morning until the rain came. I woke up with a headache and didn't much feel like it, but I knew the dirt needed working before it got wet again, so I went out to do it. Watt came too and brought Tucker. They dug up all sorts of lovely compost from the bottom of our leaf pile, we piled it on the bed under the maple tree and dug it in. Don't know what we will plant there this year, but it's just about ready for whatever.

Tucker protested the time, and the overcast that robbed him even of the tanning benefits of yard work. After a while he said he'd only keep on if he could talk about WOW while we worked and so he did. Something about epic heroics and super mighty steeds and bosses dropping stuff everyone "needed" and nobody "greeded" and Tucker won it. He cut a swath of the long grass with his pen knife and spread it around the base of the maple tree for mulch.

Watt turned up a tiny mole in the compost. I turned up a black lego. By the time the first few drops of rain fell what passes for muscle in my arms and back had gone to jelly and I was happy enough to stop. Happy enough.