Today I happily communed with nature (that's right, I said happily. See? I listen).
I cut the back lawn (deftly avoiding piles of rabbit poo), cleaned off the deck (who knew that chives, sage and thyme would over-winter in deck railing planters?) and transplanted my second batch of seedlings.
I'm itching to get out and start really gardening, but the ice in the bird bath this morning was a pretty obvious sign that it's not quite time to start planting just yet.
Although the weeds certainly seem to be doing just fine. Ain't that always the way?
Speaking of gardening, I'm a wee bit drunk with power at the moment. My Beloved, whom I dragged to yet another garden centre after supper, told me that planning the yard is to him what financial planning and RRSP crap is to me. Boring. Painfully so.
Of course I needed clarification. For instance, does this mean that I can happily do whatever I please without consulting him, or does it mean he has veto power but will let me do what I want for the most part? Can I really plant what I want, where I want, when I want?
Apparently not - but almost.
He wants input, just not that much. He'll help, but not necessarily all that enthusiastically. Which is fine - that's how I am when he wants to talk about our retirement goals. Yes, I'm concerned, but I know he's looking out for us and I trust his judgment (and our financial planner's expertise) so I merrily wander through those money chats with half my mind on retirement and the other half on what I'll be making for dinner.
I pay the bills, so it's not like I'm completely oblivious and disinterested. I keep a close eye on the funds, but he's the one who plans what we'll do with them. And that's fine by me.
Just like it's fine by him if I plan our yard and gardens. A match made in gardening/financial planning heaven, that's what we are.
So now I'm off to research linden trees. I saw a beauty tonight...