Here’s a math problem for you: The Unruly Gardener is 60.25 years old. She has four bins of 2.5″ river rock weighing a total of 7.0 tons. Using a shovel, a wheelbarrow, and her 2.0 hands, she moves 2.33 of those bins to the landscape in 1.5 days, working from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. on the first day and from 8 a.m. to noon on the second day.
Question: Keeping sheer survival as a minimal outcome, how many pain pills will the Unruly Gardener need? Continue reading
It is a mid-July Sunday in central Texas. The streets are quiet, the two neighborhood pools half filled with families doing family things. This summer’s weather conversation is as follows: It’s hot, says one person.
Yes, comes the reply, but we were lucky this year. It didn’t start till late.
[End of conversation.] Continue reading
The heat is cranking up. The yard is doing what it’s going to do, but we’ve had some rain and the landscape needs nothing from me.
Well. I did break up the Queen’s Tears bromeliad this afternoon, and that was not easy. She was huge, pot-bound, and a real threat to the tenuous health of my back – for which I had to visit the doctor the other day. Floyd knows if I say, I think I have to go to the doctor, it has to be pretty bad. Continue reading