I heard footsteps behind me. I looked over my shoulder. Across the lawn came the postal carrier. He found me just as he had several times over the last few weeks, sitting on the front walk, covered in potting soil, assembling yet another container arrangement. (Just using up the last few things from last week. No new purchases, except the bag of soil.) I pulled off one dirty glove to accept the handful of mail. I said to him, "You have discovered my addiction." He laughed and offered that he found gardens much more appealing than lawns. Aha! He's sympathetic! I told him the hardscaping plans ("over here you will have a flagstone and gravel path!") and actual decisions we made ("I was going to put a big rose bush there in the corner, but I knew you'd have to walk past it, and you'd hate us.") Now we need to make more forward progress on implementing those plans. He seemed to welcome them.
I couldn't do much manual labor today. My wrist was still too sore from yesterday. Eventually I was able to get around, but it was a long wait. I did the mixed container and planted a hosta in a clay pot for the porch. I went around and sprinkled rose food around all of the rose bushes (I don't think I realized how many we have!) and fertilized the snot out of the poor struggling lemon tree. It's a classic cat lie to claim to have never been fed in ever, but this potted lemon would be telling the truth. I can't remember ever feeding it. No wonder it is struggling.
I fed humans too. The kids are all dealing with round 2 of the rona, so I went to the grocery store for them. I was masked, of course, because we babysat a few days ago. I have no idea whether we were actually exposed or got away in time. I suppose I could do a rapid test tomorrow, before I decide whether I'm safe to go to Rotary. So far we both feel fine. Fingers crossed it stays that way.
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