the bulldozer of apathy

Spring has sprung with a vengeance around here. I'm talking about allergies, of course. We all have them, dog included. It's pretty damn awesome.

In non-allergy-related news, I went to the garden store yesterday and got a bag of potting soil, a bag of steer manure, and a basil plant to kill. Then, this morning I dug out one of the volunteer tomatoes (You wacky gardening people! I love that you call them volunteers!) that popped up unexpectedly in the garden box and probably murdered it while putting it into a pot. We will see. Mom says volunteers tend to be hardier. Hardy enough to withstand me, though? I don't know.

That there's the news on the domestic front. That's about the only front where anything's happening anyway. You ever feel like you have so much that you want to accomplish that you can't possibly start anything? That's what's happening on most of the other fronts. Those ones are in chaos. But very slow chaos, like when you're being chased by a one-year-old and you have to kind of hobble around and shout "Oh no!" a lot and the one-year-old still can't catch you unless you actually sit down in his general path. Or like when you're being run over by a bulldozer. That's always a good analogy. I'm being run over the bulldozer of apathy and it's not good. I'm going to perish of ennui before it gets within a meter of me and then that novel will never get written and there will be no one around to murder our plants.

Here. Just look at some pictures.




First things first, the painted bedroom and living room. Some time ago, someone asked me what color we'd gone with in the living room. The answer is: the one on the right.













The rest of these, I took on an archaeological site we had the students record last Friday. It was a gorgeous, cool day and the bitey black ants were out, as you will see.