It seemed like a good idea at the time
Feb. 11th, 2019 08:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beehammerSo my a/c decided to conk out today. Fortunately it wasn't very hot out; unfortunately it still hit 82 degrees inside the house, with the sort of cross-breeze issues that meant opening the windows was just making things more damp instead of cooler. It was very much a work in the yard where the wind is blowing free kind of afternoon.
All the beanlets that sprouted so far have been tucked away along the fence in the ground, the other half of the rotten fence I pulled down has been broken up and binned, I pulled an ungodly amount of stickerburr weeds up as well as about forty feet of catbrier root. It's been dry and hot enough, though, that the handful of potted plants I've collected since December really aren't having a good time unless they've in very big pots. So it was time to get the two tomato plants and one blackberry plant I bought on impulse the last time I went to the native plant nursery into the ground. And by "time," I mean that I had about ten minutes of daylight left and was damn well going to use it.
There was about... I want to say five minutes between me traipsing around the corner of the house with a big pointy shovel and and nitrile gloves and a grim determination, having the dim realization that this had kind of a murdery vibe to it, and scaring the absolute fucking shit out of my next-door neighbor when she came outside to throw something in her bin. Because you know what you don't expect to find when you come outside your house as night is finally falling? A human being on their knees scratching frantically at the dirt and rattling dead leaves around because the blackberry plant's entire rootball decided to just fucking unravel the second the pot came off, barely visible on the other side of your split-rail fence.
All the beanlets that sprouted so far have been tucked away along the fence in the ground, the other half of the rotten fence I pulled down has been broken up and binned, I pulled an ungodly amount of stickerburr weeds up as well as about forty feet of catbrier root. It's been dry and hot enough, though, that the handful of potted plants I've collected since December really aren't having a good time unless they've in very big pots. So it was time to get the two tomato plants and one blackberry plant I bought on impulse the last time I went to the native plant nursery into the ground. And by "time," I mean that I had about ten minutes of daylight left and was damn well going to use it.
There was about... I want to say five minutes between me traipsing around the corner of the house with a big pointy shovel and and nitrile gloves and a grim determination, having the dim realization that this had kind of a murdery vibe to it, and scaring the absolute fucking shit out of my next-door neighbor when she came outside to throw something in her bin. Because you know what you don't expect to find when you come outside your house as night is finally falling? A human being on their knees scratching frantically at the dirt and rattling dead leaves around because the blackberry plant's entire rootball decided to just fucking unravel the second the pot came off, barely visible on the other side of your split-rail fence.
