Today we helped Patron of the Arts celebrate his birthday. Because Patron is in need of nothing, Famous Artist (whose work covers several of Patron's walls) organized a We Love Patron party at his house.
We did things he hadn't gotten around to doing - washing his car, taking recycling to the dump, putting up a new mailbox, etc. Although we all have our own things we haven't gotten around to doing - I would list but might burst into tears - it was fun doing it for someone else. It was also fun being at his house while the other worker bees came and went. I thought it was pretty spiffy of Famous Artist to organize. I guess some people were afraid he might take it the wrong way, but honestly if someone said to me "I noticed you have (insert travesty here)" and offered to lend a hand, I'd be all over it. Unless it was my mother and then I would say WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY TRAVESTY?!? I LOVE THAT TRAVESTY.
Mom can't win.
I did fix a couple of my travesties today - specifically I put in two new beds near our deck/veranda/patio. Chris sometimes brings huge buckets of dirt the color of coffee grounds home from the dump. I don't trust it in my vegetable garden, but I figure what's the harm if the flowers mutate? So this is me putting in new beds: yank out tallest clumps of grass, heap gigantic pile of dirt on top of remaining grass, plant. Ta da! We'll see how it goes.
I planted sunflowers again this year. I bought some seeds and then found that they had been poured into one of the tomato peat pots, along with three other kinds of seeds. Thank you, Studley. I picked out the sunflower seeds and put them in a little plastic bowl for planting later.
So today I'm finally ready for them (yes, I'm late. Pipe down). I get the little plastic bowl out of the window and see that it is empty. I am pretty sure the seeds are in the vacuum. Chris, sensing a meltdown, asks if I'd like him to get them out of the vacuum. He's a saint.
Instead I go to the garden center and buy new sunflowers. And some cosmos. The clerk looks at the packets and, also sensing a meltdown, volunteers "oh, this is a great company! these seeds always come up in no time flat!" I refrain from kissing her, but just barely.
So now the garden center tally is something around eleventy hundred dollars and the only thing that seems to be thriving is the accursed Brussels sprouts. I have already presented the gift, they are welcome to die now.
Needless to say, Famous Artist did not set me to work in Patron's gardens.