I had big plans for this weekend, people. BIG PLANS. I was going to get a ton of work done, and have quality time with my family, and get the rest of my seedlings into the garden, finally, and it was all going to be spectacular.
I got almost no work done, but I bet you already knew that.
I’m not entirely sure how one defines “quality time,” but we’ll just agree to accept “going to the grocery store and arguing about high fructose corn syrup” and “letting my daughter ‘fix’ my hair for me” as quality. Really, I mean, this stuff is what life is made of. Or something.
Also, it’s been incredibly hot here, so my husband and I opened the pool, much to the delight of the small people who live here. Because no one ever remembers that 1) it takes a while to make the pool ready for use and 2) even when it’s 95 degrees out, a long winter means the water in the pool is still pretty cold.
Here’s the thing open opening the pool: It sounds very fancy and grandiose. “We’re opening the pool.” In reality, it means that we peel back the cover and then stand around staring into the murk, trying not to barf.
We had a very rainy winter, followed by the worst pollen season EVER, and so as a result, the carefully controlled chemical stasis we supposedly put the pool into last Fall was completely upended; we had to pump water out multiple times over the winter to prevent flooding (diluting the chemicals), and despite our fancy “filtering” cover, the pool water was approximately 50% pollen-fueled algae.
Me, I find this terribly depressing. The pool cover was expensive, pool chemicals are expensive, and it seems like no matter what we do, every year the pool is disgusting when we open it. Then we spend a ton of time and money getting it ready for swimming and Otto cracks jokes about filling it in with dirt and koi.
So I helped with the pool some, and then I worked on the garden some, where—as always—I’m completely mystified by what grows and what doesn’t. Like, I apparently cannot grow spinach to save my life. Why? No idea. I plant it with other things that can give it shade, but it doesn’t matter. Spinach hates me. Meanwhile, I had a thriving cucumber sprout that up and died overnight for no obvious reason, and because the other ones I’d planted had never sprouted at all, I planted a ton of seeds to replace them, and ALL of those sprouted almost immediately. Now I should probably thin them out, but I’m not ready to do it because who knows if they’ll all just spontaneously DIE, anyway.
Meanwhile, my seedlings are making me insane. Every time I think they’re ready to be planted, I’ll find one of the tomatoes slumped over, listless, or one of the pepper plants starts turning yellow. THEY’RE SCREWING WITH ME, is my point.
The good news is that the peas and beans and squash and zucchini are all already in the garden and doing well. The bad news is that I planted 3 zucchini and 3 yellow squash and I got 2 of one and 3 of the other. I could plant another seed… but I can’t remember which one I put where. Which means I don’t know which one I’m missing. And I’m paralyzed by indecision, as if ending up with 4 of one and 2 of the other would upset the delicate balance of the universe, or something.
Inbetween mucking with my plants and vacuuming the pool fifteen times, I did manage several hundred loads of laundry. Chickadee somehow seemed to outgrow a pair of pants I think I bought her last month, whereas Monkey is still wearing a pair I’d made a mental note last summer to put into the “outgrown” pile because they were nearly too short. They are still only nearly too short, which I think means he hasn’t gotten any tall this entire year…? Is that even POSSIBLE?
I am EXCELLENT at growing things… in the pool.
I am PASSABLE at growing things… in the garden.
I am BAFFLED by growing children… and am currently expecting one giant girl and one slightly stunted but still-adorable boy.
The icing on the cake? The pool is nearly ready… and after a week of hitting the low 90s, today it’s only 60 degrees outside. OF COURSE.