The pots will go on a brass baker's rack that I ejected from my kitchen six months ago. It has four tiered racks, perfect for holding lots of plants. I could have spent a fortune on pretty containers, but I used some restraint and settled, instead, for cheap plastic pots in earthy colors, mixing the shapes. In one long, window-box-shaped planter, I put perennial herbs, thinking I'll take the planter inside when winter comes. I got all the standards - rosemary, thyme, sage, basil, etc. - plus some mint (in case I need a julep one of these days). I also planted two lettuces. Everything is planted in "moisture control" dirt, which hopefully will buy me an extra day if I forget to water.
When he gave out from digging monkey grass, The Husband decided he would move the charcoal grill, a big, rectangular monstrosity on wheels, so that he could lay a rectangle of paving stones under it. This grill is several years old. It never gets covered, and has been sitting in the grass its whole life. When moved, two of its wheels broke out of their rusty legs. We propped it up on bricks, for now, and moved on to other projects.
After lunch, The Husband said he was going across the road to mow Nanny's yard. I said that while he mowed her yard, I'd mow ours. Our mower had the yard sweeper attached to it, which was okay, since there were a few piles of leaves around the yard that needed to be swept. After a quick lesson on how to take the sweeper off when I was ready to mow, I climbed on the mower and turned the key. Dead battery. We dragged out the battery charger to boost it. Once the thing was running, The Husband rode his bicycle to Nanny's, and I started toward the front yard, sweeper in tow.
Now, the lawnmower, by itself, fits perfectly
through this rose arbor.
The sweeper, however, does NOT fit perfectly through the rose arbor, a fact of which I was unaware until I heard a WHAM! and saw the whole rose arbor shiver.
It's positively amazing how many different thoughts can go through one's mind at times like this. In an instant, I could see the arch falling over, and those terrible, spiked limbs whipping back on me. At the same time, I imagined the sweeper in pieces behind me, and The Husband giving me The Look on seeing the damage. Worse, I imagined trying to set that arbor back up and get that rose bush back on it.
Thankfully, none of that happened. The arbor shivered, but did not fall, and the sweeper looked none worse for the wear. All I had to do was back up....
When I tried to back up, the sweeper got cross-wise of the path, and no matter which way I turned the mower wheels, the sweeper went toward the house. I finally decided that I would simply take the damned thing off the mower, drive the mower on through the arbor, and come back around to get it from the other side. Naturally, when I got off the lawnmower seat, then engine quit. I said a few choice words, but went and unhooked the sweeper. And, naturally, when I tried to re-start it, the battery was dead again. I went for the battery charger. Even with a long extension cord, it lacked about 10 feet reaching the lawnmower. I put the mower in neutral and started pushing, nearly blowing out both of my kneecaps in the process. But, once hooked up to the charger, the engine cranked right away, and I managed to get the sweeping and mowing done without further trouble.
We came in from the yard about dinnertime, both of us smelly and dusty and exhausted. After we cleaned up, I convinced The Husband to take me out to dinner by dangling the idea of doing a little grill shopping afterwards. We had Chinese food at our favorite place. The fortune in his cookie said, "A shooting star tonight will bring good luck tomorrow." He folded up the little strip of paper and put it in his pocket. Later, as we were driving home, we saw a shooting star so incredibly bright that at first I thought it was low-flying aircraft. The Husband saw it, too, just before it winked out. We both gasped.
"I'm buying lottery tickets tomorrow," he said.
And so he did.
Wish him luck!
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