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Sunday, March 25, 2012

Colorful Icelandic Poppies (1 lb loose seeds)

The Scene 10:15 am Sunday:
Two Sleep deprived High Schoolers raging with hormones, one awaiting college rejection letters (she fears) and the other furious and out of control after having been woken by very-loud least-favorite music and an enthusiastic, wet, freshly bathed corgi pup (25 lbs) with sharp claws unleashed from the toweling area. 

At Hand:
The motivation to make my (rented) and desolate deed path strewn patch of scrubby oaks look like the above, a field of color all around the house, from measly property line to property line (which I had to pay two gad-abouts $280 to rake up the leaves, twigs and dispose of them, and stack the two cords of wood I had been working on stacking having already paid for a $50 video game for the privilege of so doing). A soft hand to scatter seeds (I wish I hand sand to mix with them) and a broad chalkboard to envision this beauty.

The Motivation:
The ability to fall asleep every night (when I could) to seek eagerly the tender shoots -- signalling the promise of a day without tears.

Strong muscles. Metal Rake. The ability to touch dirt, cooperate, speak without throwing kinves (even sheathed) and not  having a tempertantrum (seriously the video would go viral) of a 14 year old forcibly having the xBox removed -- knocking down all in his enormous 300 pound furious gorilla's path.

The Result:
Bruises, bumps, an 8" x 4" circular dent/hole in the wall who thankfully yielded a large enough chip to be color matched. Hurt feelings, and lots of tears (not the heman kind, certainly). Three people locked in three rooms after much yellling. Despair. A desire to make beautiful that which is terrifying.

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