It's a miracle we still sleep in the same bed, isn't it?
Anyway, a few nights ago when the temperatures dropped into the twenties, I closed the window shut tight and I believe my husband got the best night's sleep he'd had in years. I've kept the window closed and by golly, he's still sleeping well and last night we both slept for nine and one half hours which is some sort of record without a doubt and there you go.
We've been sleeping together since 1983 and I've finally just figured this out.
Okay. So do you want to know what exciting thing I have planned for today? I am going to pick up the fruits of the invasive air potato vine which litter the side yard. This damn vine can take down full grown oak trees. When we moved here, it had just about done that and we hired a nephew to do brutal clearing of it but it's persisted, of course, and this is the time of year when the very-much-like-a-potato bulbs which the vine drops are lying about the ground and I need to go pick up as many as possible and burn them.
If I don't, they will all take root and sprout and it's easier to pick them up now then to wait and pull the plants once they have begun to grow. Of course all of this takes place in the areas also populated by the horrendous and cruel thorn vine and those things could rip a hippo to shreds. I don't even try to pull those fuckers because their roots form from bulbs as big as washtubs and are buried halfway to China. But I will be taking my pruners to cut them.
If I finish all of that up, I could go around and trim up some of the frozen ornamentals and haul all that to the burn pile.
What in hell do people without yards do for fun?
Having a little anxiety today but I am going to treat it with a cup of Valerian tea rather than any of my precious few Xanax or my oh-so-relaxing (I hear) Valium because it's not that bad. I need to go to the store to buy more tea as well as fruit because I just grated up our last apple into the oatmeal and one must have fruit about. I had a friend once who said that when she bought squash, she figured she'd done her job, even if she never cooked or ate it. I understand this.
So that's my big plan for this gray, damp, chilly Saturday. Mr. Moon is working on the boys' fort/playset thing. Yesterday Gibson slipped in the upside down, laying on the ground slide which was holding water and he cried piteously. I do not blame him. That water was cold. I swooped him up and carried him into the house and threw his clothes in the dryer. The first set of clothes he'd been wearing when he got here were in the washing machine because they had been covered in smoothie. He happily ran around wearing nothing but a diaper until I got his clothes dry and thank goodness it was warmer yesterday. We can go for days and days without having to use the back-up outfit and then one day you need a third set.
Well, that's life. And so is potato vine and so is thorn vine and so are apples and oatmeal and anxiety and sweet fat babies running around naked and toilets that need cleaning and bushes that need trimming and laundry that needs doing and squash that needs eating and sleeping and waking up and finding your lover across the vast expanse of a king-sized bed to cuddle on a lazy Saturday morning.
Which I just picked.
Happy Saturday, y'all.