too hot, too tired, too much.

more plants!
more dirt!!
and more big fun....
that's no joke.
even our gardens have got gardens by this point.
green and leafy, ninjas.
that's how we like to see the whole wide world;
y'know,
all alive an' that...
heck,
we've even got gardens underneath the trees.
that's right.
below the broad branches and prickly needles,
we've got a whole other 'nother kind of a garden;
a shade garden.
astilbes, lungwort, goat's beard, hostas, and creepy creepers.

see?
now imagine how much cooler that hottness will be,
full of flourishing and flowering,
out and away from all the scorching sunshine,
nestled in the shady soil and covered in mulch.
nature was going to win anyway,
so we've decided to cast our lot with her,
and let all the weeds and weak sauce wither,
whether we weed or water whither or wherever.
word.
***********
berries.
i mean it.
that's what we're getting ready to plant.
a whole mess of different razzle-dazzlerberries,
a couple of blueberr's,
and a few sweetly juiced-up blacker-than-blackberries, too.
a small and comfortable summer, neighbors.
that's what it looks like we're participating in.
no viking forays,
no berserker bedlam.
berries, maybe,
and flowers, for sure.
otherwise,
it's happening, for real,
on a small scale in an intimate environment.
because Folk Life keeps it comfortable.
as in:
i've got a pair of perfectly pleasant little girls,
a wholly exceptionally worthy wife's worth of womanly hottness,
and a pick'em-up truckfull of plants that need interring.
small and comfortable, kids,
but despite the lack of girth,
we're more than making up for it with
loud fresh hardness...
...for your mutha-b!tchin' face, 'lickers;
never quiet, never soft.....