Pooped

I've been playing the yard all weekend, gardening. Great fun, but very tiring; we have a large yard. I put in a herd of day lilies and a lavendar hedge anchored at both ends with rosemary. It should smell wonderful when it gets going. That is if the deer don't decide that they like their corn flavored with a few herbs. Although you can't see any of my efforts, you can take a peek at the garden if you go to deercam and you may even see some of the deer. I gave up with bedding plants a couple of years ago. The deer consider them a lovely salad. They last abouut two days before they sucum so now I put them in pots on the deck. Of course, teh squirrels seem to think I've hidden treasure -- or may nuts -- in the pots. We did manage a good show of pansiesover the winter even so.

So what has this to do with writing you ask. And by now you have already guessed that it's my excuse for not getting a single word done this weekend. Tomorrow, tomorrow there's always tomorrow, and yes, it is only a day away. I'm awestruck by the number of words some of the buddies are putting in. And I'm really excited for you all. I have been working on Project Tevan while I've been digging and pulling weeds. If only someone would invent a way to move the words from my head onto paper or into the computer. The Pulse is great but my hands are really too tired to write anything down. I tried Dragon Naturally Speaking, but it doesn't work for me. Great idea but I hate the sound of my own voice.

And now I have to go and make pizza, which I should have done yesterday but left it too late. Write on, everyone, I will join you soon.