Sunday, March 28, 2010

My Not So Green Thumb...

On this beautiful Sunday while Taylor was at work I temporarily turned into Susie Homemaker.  Seriously, I cleaned the house, did about 5 loads of laundry (and I'm only half done), worked in the yard, went to the store, and made homemade lasagna...I'm not sure who I thought I was...but it was nice to have such a productive day.  It's amazing what some good country music and gorgeous Spring weather will do to you!

While looking at my yard, that has begun blooming dandelions in this nice weather, I decided something needs to be done with it.  I'm not quite sure what to do...but I've got to do something.  This is my first yard (thank goodness it's tiny) and I'm trying to remember what my parents do in their yard.  Since I own no garden tools, I decided to start pulling weeds that are sprouting up EVERYWHERE.  As I'm pulling along, disrupting the ants and earthworms that call my yard home, I'm consciously looking for prickly weeds before I pull them.  After pulling for an hour I've found no prickly weeds and I get careless.  I reached under a hedge to pull the weed and the stinkin' prickles attacked my hand!!  It stung so bad!  My mom said, "you know they have these things called...gloves...they're very useful".  I mean, I don't even own a shovel, let alone some garden gloves, but those very well might be my next purchase! 

Anyway, it felt like I still had the pricklies (I may have just made up a word) in my hand even a few hours later.  But after examining my hand closely I couldn't see anything, so I had to just get over it.  But the whole situation reminded me of a story that my family knows well...especially Mama, my grandma. 

When I was about 5 or 6 I was staying with Mama and Papa, my grandparents, in Siesta Key while my parents were in Naples.  As I was playing outside at the condo I was chasing a lizard and ran right through a cactus garden, barefoot.  Inevitably I got the pricklies all in the side of my foot.  I had to go to the foot doctor to have them pulled out of my foot because my grandparents couldn't get them out.  Now anyone who knows how well I do at the doctor's will understand what a miserable experience this was for Mama and Papa.  I freaked out, I threw up all over the doctor...twice.  They really loved me there.  Anyway, they got all the pricklies out after two visits, as I cried and moaned for my parents and meanwhile they enjoyed a great trip to Naples...poor Mama and Papa. 

Needless to say, I didn't need to go to the doctor today and my hand is just fine, but I couldn't help but be reminded of that lovely story!  Just thought I'd share.

Alright, back to the VOLS game, half time is over!  V-O-L-S, GO VOLS, GO!!!!!!!!!

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