To be fair, it is mid-Spring and we're in the midst of the high interval grass cutting. A few years ago I gave up on my yard. The empty lot next door was being cut long after the weeds went to seed and I decided I would resume after there was a house there. So this Spring I added weed and feed to my shopping list. First application was in late March and I plan to do another this week--there're a lot of weeds. Oddly, the back looks better than the front which was, as required by the HOA, sodded when the house was built. So much for sod.
I'm surprised we start the year in January just as winter begins rather than April when the world is awakening. Yes, I know that'd only work in this hemisphere. Still, Winter seems a strange time to reset the clock. April 1st does seem like a reasonable choice.
I finished planting mom's garden a week or so ago on a windy day. You know what? Those tiny little seeds blew right of my hand! Mom of course complained about how I planted as the rows aren't straight enough of the plants clumped together. She's stopped complaining about the dirt not being tilled until fluffy--I have no idea what she expects and I feel like her memory of how dad did it might be a bit off.
Memories are not always dependable. My memory of Lost in Space was that it was a great sci-fi show but rewatching it as an adult was a let down. It was so full of misinformation: the Jupiter 2 frequently has the threat of burning up when approaching a comet which is a ball of ice and rock illuminated by a star and therefore does not emit its own heat and light. But I digress.
My handful of strawberry plants has expanded into a sizable patch of strawberries. Apparently I am raising strawberry fed rabbits. Maybe I should "pick" them fresh from the garden, too. Seems the rabbits at mom's are more fond of lettuce and spinach as it is nibbled to the dirt.
Today is a momentous day as we are driving mom to CarMax to sell her car. She has decided to quit driving and therefore doesn't need a car or the expenses it entails. She hurt her foot last year and couldn't drive even if she wanted to. She was never a fan of driving and didn't get her license until around the time that her first born had a license. I guess that's about 50 years of driving or, more accurately, avoiding it. I can't remember a time when mom was driving me somewhere but I presume she did. Around the time I got my learner's permit, mom let me learn every time we got in the car.