The wind is blowing today and it’s slightly chilly. This may be a good thing because I don’t feel as inclined to be outside. Lately, the weather’s been so good that when working, I feel antsy. Antsy – this is a good term for how I feel on nice days. The bodily sensation is akin to having ants crawling all over my body. Best then, to abandon inside work and take up outside work.

Right now we have a lot going on around her. We’re now getting the hoop house, green house, and garden beds ready for planting, and we will probably be planting in the next few days. We had an early spring, so the likelihood of there

being a late spring frost is getting more and more minimal.

I have vowed this year to give Pete an assist with the gardening. No, I’m not a gardener. This is because I am a detail person who easily gets overwhelmed by detail. I cannot (for example) partially weed a garden bed. Once I’m down on my knees, I’m determine that every single weed in that particular area must go. But at the same time, I become unnerved in thinking about what remains to be done. This is a bad feeling. The ants return, marching first in one’s, then two’s, then three’s and then fours. Up my legs they come, with near military-like precision.

This year is going to be different, or so I am saying. I’ve blocked out chunks of time for gardening. And so far, I’ve been diligent about giving Pete an assist. And so far, I’ve not had to contend with the ants. The soil is now loose and I’ve gotten a jump on the weeding thus far.

Today I’m going to clean the brush out of the area in front of the lower greenhouse. Pete has plans to revamp the greenhouse – he’s going to make concrete beds. So it would be nice if the entire area was taken care of. But first, I must get the dogs out.

Yesterday I got to thinking – what if, for some inexplicable reason, I had to abandon ship and could no longer continue to be overwhelmed? Undoubtedly, the world would not come to an end. Rather, I’d pick up the pieces and, when able, begin anew. Of course, in time the ants would return, because they’d have no other place to go.

The ants are of course a construct of my very active imagination. It really doesn’t matter how or when I get all that needs to be done, done because there is always going to be more to do.

Next: 139. 5/20/14: The Garden of Weedin’