Sabbatical application is in!
If awarded, I will be on sabbatical starting next July 1st.
Keeps fingers, eyes, anything crossed in hopes that a year long sabbatical will come my way.
I'll know in September.
Sunday afternoon with my mother wasn't too bad.
It was warm outside, so that always perks her up.
Congress is in town, bringing with it 6000 scholars from across the globe, so it would stand to reason that we would run into a few people we hadn't seen for a while.
At the mall.
It was a bit overwhelming for me so I can't imagine what it would be like Mum.
By the time we sat down for coffee we were all more than ready.
Plus Stephen and I needed to refuel, because after we took Mum back to the nursing home, we stopped at the Superstore for a roast chicken.
Which ended up being a roast chicken for Em and chicken wings for Stephen and Keith.
Only one of them actually needed the chicken wings.
Guess which one.
Back to the mall, pick up Keith from work, dash home for another salad dinner for me and Fat and Sodiumfest 2011 for Stephen and then we were out the door again heading for the university to hear a talk by Jeff Ferrell.
Dumpster diver, graffiti writer, anarchist criminologist extraordinaire.
And he's just a really nice guy.
He's coming back in September for the annual ACQRA lecture and workshop http://w3.stu.ca/stu/sites/acqra/index.html.
Both of which I will be attending.
I can't wait.
You should, at the very least read his book: Empire of Scrounge: Inside the Urban Underground of Dumpster Diving, Trash Picking, and Street Scavenging.
It's riveting.
My dirt arrived yesterday.
3 cubic feet is a lot of dirt.
After dinner last evening, I moved the largest houseplants, the ficus tree, jade tree and an ivy that was desperate for new soil, outside for replanting.
Hands in the dirt.
Hoisting soil laden pots up and down the deck stairs as the dirt pile wasn't on the deck, but the ground.
Imagine.
Hearing the plants whisper sighs of relief as they rested their roots into the rich, heavy, compost laden soil.
The persistent ache in my lower back from bending and lifting.
It was glorious.
And all the herbs are potted, on the deck and when I looked out on everything this morning, because I kept everything outside overnight and will probably keep them outside as long as I can, I swear they almost waved at me.
Giving me the thumbs up for finally noticing that they were in need of new soil.
Later this week I'm bringing home the plants from my office.
Some, for example Herbert, will remain home.
Herbert is some kind of tropical tree Stephen had before we even got together.
And he only ended up in my office because Greedy Guts Goblet decided to snack on him, requiring an emergency trip to the vet, two weeks before we got married, to the tune of $225.00.
However, she seems to have moved past her plant partaking, so we decided it was time to bring Herbert home from banishment.
Plus, quite frankly, he takes up a lot of room in my office.
And if you've ever been in my office, you know there isn't much room to be had.
This afternoon then, under the warm and welcoming sunshine, the yardwork will commence.
Weedwacking and supervising for me.
Hole digging and perhaps some grass cutting for Keith.
Stephen will be cutting and trimming under plants and trees before generously laying the rich, luxurious dirt around them.
Our neighbour kindly agreed to re-till the back garden and till the space between them.
At which time I'll put in the tomato plants, move ground covers. . . .
And the weeding!
That will be an all summer long project.
I did try to tackle some of them last night.
Stephen bought one of those weed stick thingies.
I was really looking forward to using it, thinking it would be a great help with some of the deeper rooted dandelions.
If dandelions were considered a precious flower, we'd be rich.
After using said weed dodaddy, two words came to mind.
Tits and bull.
Because that is how useful it is.
Good thing it wasn't expensive.
Other than something like Roundup, or the organic product we saw on tv last night, one we are willing to try, it seems to me the only way to really get weeds out is to just get down on your hands and knees and pull the damn things out.
So I did.
It worked.
Imagine.
This morning, before we go to our offices, Stephen and are will be partaking of the Congress Book Fair.
Just the thought of what treasures may await me makes my heart flutter.
Because who needs to eat?
Right?
Title Lyric: Pulling Weeds by Faster Pussycat
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