Today I'd planned to write. I felt like writing and I have an opening scene for the story for which I'm in pre-book. Perfect. Or so I thought.
My dad decided that today was the day we were finishing the edging project around my garden. If you'll recall, three or so weeks ago, we pulled a gazillion weeds out, put black edging down, and filled it with mulch. We only did halfway, though, before we ran out of edging, so it was tabled. Until today. Groan.
On the plus side, the entire garden is now edged and mulched. On the minus side, I accomplished nothing else today even though I wanted to. It was muggy, the sky gray and the air seemed cloying with its thickness. The bugs were terrible--mosquitoes, flies, and gnats. Don't even get me started about the really weird spider I saw or the grasshopper that jumped into my tree ring. It was a miserable time and now I'm sore and tired.
The garden, though, does look better and the weeds are gone. I'm so sick of weeds. I also got all the weeds out of my garden. Okay, most of them. I think it might be impossible to get all the weeds out of there. And I worked on pulling weeds where my one surviving tiger lily is. Dang deer.
But I didn't write my scene! I did try when I finished in the yard, but my mental edge was blunted by the physical labor. :-/ Now, I'm thinking about going to bed early.
