shovel it.

duders,
sometimes real life is just not all that exciting.
i mean, c'mon,
i've reread the last few weeks' reports-
mostly,
i just hang out in my epic garden,
feeling smug about how more elite my jauns are
than everybody else's.
i presume that days and days of descriptive diatribes
about the granite state and it's constituent elements
isn't so very interesting to folks who'd rather read about
tattoos and food or whatever.
too bad.
gardens are what's really happening.
that's on the real real.
check the teleport:

rocks!
aaaaaand,

more rocks!!
aaaand,

even more rocks!
getting there is where we're at,
and also where we're headed.
y'know, all almost, but not quite, an' that.
despite the heavy toll of truckload after truckload
of heavy-type mutha-lickin' rocks,
still more flippin' rocks are a decidedly necessary accessory
for hooking up the whole hottness...
and probably more plants, too.
this is a herculean effort on the part of me and all my crew.
there just aren't enough sunny hours for doo-dooing
all the permacultural botanical business what needs doing.
i'm just sayin',
we spent two days off, full to bursting with heavy lifting,
sunburn, scrapes, slices and shreds,
rain and and sweat-soaked clothes and shoes,
and all-consuming shovel and pick progression.
wheelbarrows, and worn-out gloves, too.
and then ma nature opened the heavens
and itsy-bitsy spider spouted so much m'-b!tchin' water.
right at my A*-hole and down my driveway.
seriously,
water knows where to go,
and how to get there,
and has no trouble deciding itself a course of action
for dramatic, dynamic devastation.
if a path of easy meandering is not provided,
water makes a big deal about it,
and wrecks your sh!t.
what i mean is:
nature washed away a big chunk of freshly raised garden bed.
and she flooded a whole other 'nother part of the super circle.
too much juice, too quickly, was the culprit-
drainage.
yes, drainage.
that's what we needed, ninjas.
so my soaked-through self slogged into the muddy waters
and created some channels.
erosion is the better part of poor drainage, it turns out.
in addition to half the garden getting a righteous rinsing,
most of the road washed out, too.
that's some fortress type sh!t for sure, duders.
impassible dirt tracts,
and cavernous culverts,
and water-miki-fikin'-falls for your face.
we've got the high ground.
and the gardens.
and a whole lot of hard feelings.
if the woodsliness wasn't so dang GOOD,
i'd almost be bummed out a little tiny bit.
half a day lost to cloudbursts and lightning strikes.
naturally, i did hang out for a few minutes with my steel spade,
hoping to provide a conduit for an electric bolt of inspiration,
but the zaps connected earthwards farther south of here.
better luck next time, i suppose.  
perennial perpetuity.
it all keeps happening.
nature + hottness + participation x infinity =
never quiet, never soft.....