Seems like there’s a lot going on, so much that I don’t even have time to write about it.
Justin’s first tourney game for this weekend is actually today at 3:30, so I’m getting out of work early to get over there in time.
Tomorrow, in the morning, we’re going to move the rose bushes (Jackie doesn’t know that yet, but it’s true.) — it seems the HOA doesn’t like the trellises we put up so that the roses could climb up the front of the house and make this neat shaded walk-through (there’s a picture around here somewhere).
I can make everyone happy by ‘framing’ the trellises (trellisi?), but honestly, I’d rather just move the bushes and relocate the trellises to the garage until I can think of something else to do with them (err… that is, “until I can do the thing I know I want to do with them without going broke”).
What my brain thinks is going to happen: dig up rosebushes bright and early in the morning and replant them somewhere in the landscaped area, all before Justin’s first game.
What will actually happen: bleary mid-morning run to Home Depot for more mulch to expand the landscaping (and to rebuild the stuff the rat-bastard neighbor’s dog dug up) while Jackie gets the other materiels, than actually prepare a new space for the rose bushes on Sunday (which I’ll end up finishing up since she’s got a contract job to work on), because we have to race off at the last minute to the soccer game that we’re almost late for. Or something. I think we should plant them in the area that’s all torn to hell anyway, since we’re already going to have to rebuild that part.
I still want to get a couple more trees to plant smack-dab in the front yard alongside the path, btw. Must do that soon.
Also, the juniper bush on the corner needs to die.
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It’s one of those points in the year when my time commitments outnumber actual time units by a 2 to 1 ratio. That’s right, another Convention, and somehow we’re scheduled to be there all through the weekend of Sept 8th. This time, Jackie has arranged for the Owner of the Rat Dogs to come down to the house and pay us back some dog sitting — we’re going to get a room at the Con hotel location and have an actual place to veg out.
Parenthetically and pathetically, this will be a sort of an anniversary present for us since it’s the weekend following The Day and we get away from the house a little bit, right?
Right? We’re pretending it’s going to work and be pleasant and unstressful and relaxing and not at all a huge hassle, anyway.
Don’t know how the eleven year old sharing the hotel space factors into this ‘gift’, though. That nuance has escaped me.
