My jeans have muddy knees and ass......what can this mean?

In case you wondered where in the hell I might be, let it be known first, that I am still here, that I have been out in rhe front garden apparently planting impatiens.  "Yes, yes", you say, "but it has  beenb over a month since there has been a peep or a rude word out of you."   And I canb only say that it takes me a helluva lot longer to dig a little hole than it used to.I am sorry for worrying you by dropping out of sight for so long........there has been a succession of reasons and excuses.......we just won't go there right now.  Suffice it to say....I am still alive......still here on upper Califa St. griping, ranting, complaining and oy vey-ing in my usual vigorous, loud-mouthed and uncouth fashion.  Struggling mightily with vision problems which really makes it difficult to near impossi ble to read and write and that does discourage me from even trying on some days.


However, it seems tht spring has somewhat revived me to the point that Ihave felt sgtrong stirrings and urges for impatiens and lobelia.......so much so thst I and my trusty caregivers have made multiple excursions to the discount nursery for bedding plants.   Sadly, the nursery's supplier has failed miserably to provide lobelia in a condition to satisfy the owner and he has sent them away with their puny lobelia and ordered them to bed without their supper,  leaving me with nothing but a few flats of impatiens, some rose bushes (who can resist  2 for $12)     and a b aby Lavender plant, a few pots of pink and yellow daisies anbd a trunkful of potting soil and planter mix.

Since my gardener, an excellent fellow at his trade except for having no aesthetic eye for planting, would have simnply inserted them all into the  bed exactly 6 inches apart anbd with no consideration for tastefully alternating colors, it became obvious to me that I would have to plant  'em or spend the summer in a snit, I hied me to the back corner of my clothes closet praying that I had not tossed my beloved work jeans.  Tenks gott I must have rescued them from the discard pile and put them back in the closet whebn I wasn't  looking.  And,they still fit somehow.  So, donning them anbd my favorite T shirt from the good old days with the "BadDog" legend across the front, I schlepped myself out to the front lawn and got down on my knees at the planting bed energetically removing each little plant from its pot, loosening the root ball, digging the hole and planting it.  This lasted for about 6 plants at which time my knees  yelled at me that if I did not get off of them they would  make me regret it, whereupon I switched to a sitting on my fanny position...legs askew...not the mnost ideal way to plabnt, but better thanb having yur knees go onstrike for a week.  I managed to get a flat abd a half planted suchwise and then my entire bod started to scream dirty words at me, so I hoisted myself up in the only way I am able to these days,,,,,,,by pushing yp into the yoga Downward Dog pose (an inverted V) and unrolling upward from there, whereupon my caregiver, Florence, helped me stagger into the house and the bliss of my recliner.  It still took 2 extra strenghth Tylenol to restore me to human condition but I felt mightily pleased with what I had accomplished a nd the fact that I had accomplished anythinbg at all.  At this point in time all of the impatiens have been planted but the story does not exactly have a happy ending.   My plan had been to go back out later in the week when my knees abd other joints had finally shut up, but Wednesday came which is gardener day and, much to my horror, I discovered that Jose had carefully planted the rest of the impatiens according to HIS method......6 inches apart and not exactly where in the bed Iy had intended them to be.    Enh!   So be it.  Good enough my knees have convinced me. 

Each of these frenzied episodes, you understand, must be followed by several days of The Recliner Pose in which I attempt to molify my bod into forgiving me and grudgingly giving me back just enough mobility to stagger to the potty whenb necessary.  The next thing on the list is to attack the side  bed by the driveway, but I have decided that I will simply place the pots where I want  them to go and wait for Wednesday.......let Jose do his damndest.


Be warned, my  darlings, that I can no longer go back and correct all the typos, grammar and punctuation errors of which there are a myriad, I know.  I am hoping you will be able to pick your way across this field of errors, broken glass abd dog turds and deduce my meanings and intentions.  If you can put up with the mess I will try to write more often.  As you canb see from the above ramblings, Lois still lives.

Funny, there seem to be too many keys for the letter "B" on this keyboard.....maybe a manufacturing error or perhaps my right forefinger has swollen to twice its size whenever I reach for an "N".  Oh well, SPF.

I luv you all.
Lo