I have been reminding [nagging?] J. that I need a managable garden cart.
I don't do well any more with hoicking sacks of peat or compost or mulch about by brute strength. [Hah!] .
I have a long history of over-filling wheelbarrows and having them overturn when I try to push them--which is not good for my back--or for my temper.
J. and I looked at the carts available at Tractor Supply on Friday and chose this one.
It came flattened in a box.
As D. appeared opportunely, he and J. put it together.
I mentioned how children of a few generations ago would have delighted in a sturdy cart or
wagon as a plaything.
D. promptly folded his 6 ft 3inch length into the cart and began urging it toward the slope of the driveway.
Gaining momentum--past the flower border.
Whee--sailing down the drive.
It was cool in the shadows under the trees and decidedly nippy as the sun went down--weather more appropriate to March or early April than the recent days of 80 F. temps.
Frost warnings were out for much of the state.
Saturday morning dawned with a heavy dew and a light shimmer of white frost which steamed away as the sun appeared over the eastern ridges.
The only sign of any frost damage here is a touch of shriveling on some of the emerging tendrils and leaves of the old grape vine.
My week was divided between hours on my [creaky] knees in my flower borders and riding with J. on endless errands.
For better or worse, I finished my compiling of figures for Income Tax.
Insomnia has been a persistant plague.
I wish I had the presence of mind to leave my bed on these frequent sleepless nights and compose the stories which whirl through my head!
Perhaps the coming week will be more productive and I will be able to work my way farther down my list of chores which 'want done.'