For the first time in a long time, Hubby and I worked together in the garden on a project. The garden is his domain, and he does 99% of the work. I just pop out to harvest veg, do a little weeding on the brick patio and walkway, and tidy. Pretty much the way it’s always been. Today, I was itching for project completion of the back area that was dug up and refilled for the window egress back in May. It’s been a mess of either sopping clay (when it rains) or concrete clay (when it doesn’t rain). We painted the lower trim of the porch white, installed white lattice, installed edging, planted stuff, and finished it off with mulch. Hubby let me have what I wanted, so I chose a row of lavender alongside the porch (for the aroma and bees) and two oak-leaf hydrangea for the back. The bees were swarming them before we could even get them in the ground.

To protect from bugs and sun, I wore long khaki pants, a long-sleeved khaki shirt, and a safari hat, which I picked up at an estate sale a couple of years ago for working in the garden. I thought I looked like a dork, but Hubby called it “fetching” (he does know how to make a girl feel nice, even if he really thought I looked like a dork too). Despite my fears of suffering from heat streak with the long clothing, it actually kept me cooler because the sun was off my skin. I wore my ankle splint with my garden shoes and walked around very slowly and deliberately, since the garden is a massive mind field of ankle-spraining potential.

Spent the late afternoon lying on the porch and reading the Sunday paper, which I don’t do often. Tonight I Zoomed with Mamacita and my sisters. Mom talked about watching the Olympic diving. She got into diving when she was in college, and I always wanted to be an Olympic diver, but alas. In my next life.

Preparing my mind and senses for the home invasion of contractors beginning tomorrow.