The sounds around me are loud. It’s night now, and the storms have brought out all the insects. Wondering how to communicate just how loud, I pulled up a decibel-reading website. At the peak of the chorus, it reached 90 decibels, which I’m told is equivalent to heavy traffic, a lawnmower, or a power tool. Sustained exposure at that level for more than four hours per week can lead to permanent hearing loss.
So yeah. Hopefully, that gives you an idea.
I popped into SiteOne earlier just to window-shop. Whenever I pass by, I do a slow drive-through of the bushes, plants, and trees. But today, when I spotted a large array of flowers in black nursery pots, I jumped out of the car, driver’s door still hanging open, and knew immediately I wasn’t leaving without something. Or many somethings.
Evelyn and I created a little “must-have” section, but when she needed to use the bathroom, a worker in a construction vest asked if we needed help. Halfway to the building, I asked about the restroom, then glanced back at my still-running car.
“Could you close my door?” I asked.
When I’m in the zone, don’t mess with me.
I bought eighteen tufts of grass, a three-foot-wide azalea, a coneflower, and a caladium. Not intending to plant them yet, I pulled up beside the berm I’ve been building for the past month and plopped everything on top.
Not even an hour later, standing in the midday heat wearing the swimsuit I’d put on with every intention of going swimming, I started digging.
And digging.
And digging.
At least ten times, maybe twenty, I dropped everything and backed away from the project. I had to see it. The layout. The dimensions. The relationships between everything. Once I’d taken the mental snapshot, I’d return and move the pots into a new arrangement.
Everything except eight grasses is planted now.
I added a bird bath and a dogwood tree from other parts of the yard to complete the look. A look that is good enough for now, and that will henceforth be tended as though it were my newborn child.
Dang, talking about plants is like crack.
I just want more.
I’d paused writing and somehow found myself logged into my SiteOne account. And somehow I’ve added six items. Now I know exactly how much I need to spend to qualify for free delivery.
$250 smackers.
Well, one can dream.
Love,
Jaclynn