Hitting The Shower.

Holy shit.
When someone tries to tell you that putting in a garden ain't work like I did, smack 'em with a shovel.

Holy Cow.
85 degrees outside and I am trying to transplant some Strawberries that decided to volunteer, along with a bunch my Uncle brought me in containers.
Creative gardening.
I got tired of trying to keep from stepping on the little darlings and made a new "Raised bed" for them and transplanted the hardy little shits. It ain't a raised bed, I threw some boards down so I won't tromp on the little fuckers

Fuck me, that shit is work.Digging shit up and digging holes to put it in at seven O'clock and it is still 80 fucking degrees out.

I will be very happy in sixty days.

If they live and the damn birds don't get to 'em, I will soon forget how fucking hot it was and how much I stink right now. I need to get some chicken wire.

I have a wedding to go to Saturday and a graduation party on Sunday and I just might bail the fuck out of both of those shortly after showing up.
I am behind on my beauty sleep.

Signing off and hitting the shower, doing the world a favor.