Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Can't believe I am still not done with the dreaded matting, and mulching. Honestly, wont this project ever end? Am I seriously that slow? There is weeding (again), and then cutting the matt, and then tacking it down (use mallet), and then putting black mulch in wheel barrow, and spreading it out. There is also taking out the cosmos, that don't belong there, and frequently spending time replanting them elsewhere, as they are in full bloom and pretty (in my o). And then there is all this annoying business of things that have over- grown, or divided, et cetera, and I have to move them, before I cut the matting and lay it all down, so that takes time too. Perpetual plant relocation (transplantation?) program.
But as it is raining, and hard, I have no intention of doing any such thing today.
I should make the homemade soup and bake the peppers, but my cooking is good only, oh let's see, about 1 every 30 times with things I make regularly, and 1 in every 65 times with new recipes. I so hate going through the whole process, if it will just be horrible in the end. My perpetual procrastination in attempting to make it, does help me see why the writing is so hard, if I am afraid a soup wont turn out (and really what the H is the risk here? an hour misspent, ruined vegetables, and some disappointment), than of course I worry about bigger projects that mean more to me. (though at least, a story can keep being reworked over the years. The meal is pretty much a one shot deal) (you may be able to unburn a plot, but not the food in the pot. Or maybe even with a plot you can not? Well anyway about my stories plot I am worried not. It is over just how it will be wrought, that I can become overwrought). Truth is though, that I am nervous, to make the food, a nutty nervous ninny, afraid it will all be a waste. (to nasty to taste, thrown out posthaste.) ( well I must pick up the pace, for spending my time whining about being afraid to try to do something, that is certainly a waste). Sorry, but I do so like bad rhyming (over rhyme, simplistic rhyme), ever so fond of it, we are great chums, the bad rhyme and I. (in-separate-able at heart, we care not for great art) (my how my thesaurus insisted I pull that word apart). Also in my rhyming defense, I am so not sleeping, and I am so tired of not sleeping, and my brain just wanders about aimlessly sleep walking through my days.
Oh, the beetles are almost gone!!!!! I am finding 1 to 3 a day now, instead of 100 or so. And my roses all have new growth on them, I am wildly optimistic that I may get to enjoy a gorgeous lush bloom before it gets frosty.