Well, I just weed whacked almost all of the dog's part of the yard. The dogs have a lot of the yard and my arms are tired and also, I'm vibrating. I feel like I may be vibrating for some time. I'm out of weed whacker cord too. My ex husband told me some arcane tale one time about using steel guitar strings on a weed whacker which, apparently, turns it into a deadly weapon nothing can withstand, but that sounds like more whacking strength than I really need. I'm thinking about it though, while I'm sitting here putting off going to Lowes, where I also need to buy a nut for the bolt which holds on, or, rather, held on, the left front wheel of the lawnmower. I swear, I try to get things accomplished but the world takes great pleasure in stopping me halfway. The lawnmower seems to actually need all four wheels - go figure. Yet another high school geometry lesson proved useless.
Also, I hired a very cute guy to rototill me up a vegetable garden and that was purely awesome. It cost me very slightly more than it would have to rent a rototiller and I didn't have to do anything except chat with this adorable hippie guy, who, it turns out, lives next door to my friends J & K. "Oh hey!" I said happily, "I've photographed your chickens!" "Far out," he said, and it struck me that I had perhaps stumbled across the perfect total Asheville conversation. Now I have a vegetable garden - well, I have a large patch of dirt somewhat dauntingly far away from my house that will soon be a vegetable garden. I dragged some landscape timbers out there to edge it and it all looks a bit forlorn still but soon enough there will be zucchini and beans and corn and whatever other oddities I pick up next week at the Herb Fair. I'm excited. I've missed having a garden. So I called my mother and told her I want 300 feet of hose for my birthday (and/or this black skirt and embroidered shirt I tried on yesterday afternoon at that shop I love so on Biltmore Avenue.) "300 feet of hose tied up with a pink ribbon," said my mother. "Okay. Got it."