Where's my blogging, you ask? It's been more than a week, I admit. But the yard work has taken precedence.
Up-side on that, at least for me, is that Bob and I were asked about our "healthy, rich-looking tans" yesterday.
"Where have you been? The islands? The Caribbeans?" the lady asked.
No, we've been in the yard. Working our heads off. But the gardens look as good as our tans, and we enjoy it.
Lately, hail has been in many a local forecast, but it so far hasn't occurred. Each time, however, it has us worrying about our gardens.
Over coffee this morning, we pondered our paranoia in that regard. We considered the pioneers, for whom gardens were life itself. For them, destruction of a garden meant starvation of a family.
All we would lose is a few bucks, a lot of sweat, my pretty flowers and the fresh summer veggies we are already dreaming about.And that realization takes the edge off our worry.
Everything in life really is relative, it seems.