Maybe It's Actually a Rug
Gardens are not made by singing "Oh, how beautiful," and sitting in the shade. – Rudyard Kipling
I've had an extended long weekend for the Easter holidays. It's nice to have some extra time away from work, but I find myself trying to do too many things and then reach the end of the weekend and wonder where it all went. It's the same every time. I wonder when I will learn to just chill out and enjoy the time off.
In truth, my body sort of forced me to slow down this weekend. Over the past few months, I've been finding myself really tired by the time the weekend comes around and I end up sleeping quite a bit more than I used to. I don't know if it's just that I am generally more mentally tired these days or if I'm just getting older, but I am certainly not the powerhouse of "get stuff done" that I used to be. Still... I did manage to get outside in the garden to clean up the beds and the deck and empty out pots. I have high hopes of growing potatoes this year in grow bags, and I scoped out the sunniest patch I could find in my shady yard and got them started. I've been peering out the window at them ever since:
I also decided to separate my African Violets this weekend. I have had great luck with them. I'm sure I've managed to get at least eight plants out of the original plant that was gifted to me a few years ago. It amazed me that they do so well, as they are among the fussiest plants I can think of: the leaves shrivel and die if they get soil or water on them, they don't like direct sunlight, they only like to be watered from below... They seem to thrive on top of my refrigerator, and there they will stay until I run out of space and have to give some away. Who knows? I may be the only person in the world who buys a second fridge just so she can have a spot for her African Violets:
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