Dear Lynn,
Here is my response to your email suggesting I may have Age Related Attention Deficit Syndrome–
Ha! Yesterday morning as I walked the yard, I decided to plant one last pack of flowers in a new bed I had placed dollar store fencing around as a deterrent to wandering pets, etc. I tucked the packet inside my sweat pants waistband, then decided I would also carry two empty pots out to the vegetable garden and use some of the great soil there to fill them for more seeds and flowers. My dog, Sox, came along and didn’t he stomp right over one of my carrot patches! I hollered at him and thought I’d better take several sections of fence from around the flower bed and put it around the carrot patches. I set the pots down with my trowel, fetched the fencing, stuck it around the carrot patches and noticed all the weeds around the pumpkin patch. I spent a few minutes pulling some when the cumulative effects of 2 big mugs of coffee suddenly hit. I quickly returned to the kitchen where John was preparing to make a roast beef for Sunday dinner. He couldn’t find his favorite pan, so I stopped on the way to the bathroom and together we found another pot for him to use. Would I chop the onions? OK. My colonic urges had subsided, so I went out to the storage room, got an onion and proceeded to chop it with my new Ginsu knife (laughing and bragging about my expertise as I whacked away). Finally I made it to the bathroom and believe me I wasn’t in there long. I went out back to fill the pots and plant the seeds. There were the empty pots and trowel but no pack of seeds. Oh yeah, I had stuck them in the waistband of my pants. But, no they weren’t there. Not anywhere in the yard, by the flower garden, on the front porch, or anywhere in the house or storage room, either. John got the roast started and helped me look around the yard again. During the day, I spent another 30 minutes trying to find the damn seeds. I never found them. I figure someday the plumber will pry open the sewage tank and be knocked to the ground and devoured by giant, mutant columbines.
This morning there were paw prints all through the new flower bed.
Damn dumb dog.
