Tempus Fuggit -OR- Blink it's Monday

Wha happened??? It was just Thursday? Now it's Monday.

The meat-world is just as messed up as it always is, but how the hell did I
fall off? I wish I could say I don't remember the last 4 days. That I was in the throes of drunken drug-addled/aided debauchery with no care of the cost or consequence. OR that I was doing something fun and productive, but the truth is
completely mundane, uninteresting and somewhat pointless.

It's not that I had BETTER things to do, just OTHER things. The backyard gazebo frame did get a new top. The poorly maintained and stored lawnmower was coaxed back to life enough to tackle the mixture of weeds and clover that passes for our lawn. An application of weed and feed was optimistically put down in hope of giving any actual grass a fighting chance.

Our over-wintered plants in pots emerged to enjoy actual sunlight. This is no small feat in itself. What began a dozen years ago as an attempt to nurture a fledgling lemon tree has expanded to encompass 20 large-ish pots and planters that seasonally take over the laundry room.

I'm not sure if this is either wise or cost-effective. There's something satisfying about not having to visit the garden center to compete and compare with other week-end gardeners, but we still manage to need more every year. It's still too early to do any substantial planting, but getting prepared for that is time-consuming.

On Saturday, my chores finally paid off. We defied the weather guessers and invited friends and neighbors over for impromptu cocktails on the veranda. A small, eclectic group of excellence. The artist, the journalist, the teachers and plenty of laughter.
We all needed it. For six lovely hours we compared notes, swapped stories and made plans to do this more regularly.

I may have to make this my new movement. Give up trying to change or fix the stuff that drives us crazy and revel in the shared understanding that six hours may not save the planet, but sure make it a more tolerable place to be. So for now, that's what I will look forward to; the next improptu get-together. There will be some attempt at planning that will need to be squelched to keep it loose. Then maybe it can evolve into a regular non-event that's as normal as mowing the weeds.