Dirt

I smell like dirt. I have it under my nails, down my shirt and in my bra. But I am happy. I hate bugs and worms, but when I see them when I am gardening, it doesn't bother me. I am in their territory. They do such good for my plant friends. I didn't have much time to spend outside. The weather is just not cooperating with my schedule. I could spend hours out their dividing and weeding and cutting back, but instead I get small snippets of time out there. I weed in random spots as I listen to the baby monitor, waiting for my baby girl to wake up. Today, I rushed around as I listened to the thunder roll in. I got the rest of the annuals planted and cut the creeping jenny way back. It is growing like crazy, getting ready to invade my peony. Doesn't it know I treasure that Peony and will kill it if it comes within a foot of my peony. Obviously not. Pictures will come soon enough. If I could just stop the weeds and baby maple trees. . .