An Exhausted Green Thumb

If you never hear from or see me again, it's because in less than 24 hours, I've single-handedly ripped out grass, wrestled tons of giants Oak roots out of the ground [okay, Brent helped with that part a little bit], extracted 2 rather large Laurel shrubs, removed 6 big boxwood, turned 5 bags of Back To Earth into the soil, planted a Weeping Japanese Maple, put in 3 Yews, 6 Heuchera in 2 groups of 3, and one Camellia [all youngish plants because it's less moolah that way] - finished off with 5 bags of pecan shell mulch... all while fitting baby needs between things. I'm tooting my own horn. Get over it. Kumbaya.

Before [may induce yawning]:

After [not a very good pic]:

I still need to get some stones for the edge of the bed and some annual color and ground cover, but it's Sunday and I doubt the rock place is open today. And even if it were Tuesday, I'M not open for any more business. More than likely, I am going to be hurtin' for certain tomorrow. It's simply unnatural for me not to be a do'er. But I might be getting too old for this. And well, I did have help from Jingleheimer and Murph... if you consider mud-fights and digging random holes "help".

Back when I had energy and could move... like Friday - we were staying up late to watch the OKC Thunder lose to the Lakers by a point. We were 3-2 by game 6 with the Lakers needing only one more win for the 4 needed to advance. And even with 10 seconds left [Thunder up by 1] I still had a feeling we were going to lose. Then, L.A. scored 2, and with HALF a second left on the clock, Thunder shot, missed, and lost by 1. Pretty exciting game, really.

And Saturday, Murph had a soccer game and then we all met for lunch with my Dad's side of the family. May 1st marked 5 years since I got a call from my Dad to notify us about my Grandpa. He'd had a heart-attack and passed away early that morning. I'll never forget what a ton of bricks that felt like. I've got a rather young family - and while that doesn't always matter - I haven't had a lot of experience with death in my life where family is concerned, or otherwise, I guess I should say. Up until then, my great-grandmother died when I was 6, I think - and that is about it. Or. Well. That is it. Of course I've known people who've passed away, or have been related way down the line or by marriage.

But anyway, I'm not very well schooled in the realm of what to do and say when there is a big loss like that. I wonder if anyone feels like they are. I always come away feeling like I've dropped the ball, or at least wondering if I somehow could have said something or provided some comfort where I hadn't. Still, I remember there being swarms of people who cared very much about my Grandpa, all descending on their home with food and company - and ultimately, things started feeling [at least for me] as if we were celebrating the life of someone dear to all of us rather than dwelling on the giant void left gaping wide open. I'm sure the experience was different for my Grandma. She had lost her most natural of all counterparts. But as life goes on, and the sun keeps coming up, I know who sustains her, whose hands her life is in... and what a legacy my grandparents on both sides have paved for generations.

Plus, I look exactly like my Grandma and get my brute, plant-plucking strength from my Grandpa. BONUS!