My Trees are Better Than Yours...

Damn right, they're better than yours.

So what if I am a terrible gardener and I will never make a strawberry grow. I have awesome trees. Lots of them. They're starting to bloom, and they are super cool. We also have loads of lilac bushes which are a favorite of mine. So who cares if I live almost 5 hours from an airport or an Anthropologie, my little neck of the world is quite nice in springtime.

World's Worst Gardener

I have a hunch that no one can kill plants faster than I can. Exactly one week ago I left my local garden center full of hope and excitement about my first gardening experience. I busily and lovingly potted fragrant herbs and cute little flowers. Knowing full well that gardening may be tricky for me I had the nice garden lady steer me towards only the hardiest of plants. "This is easy to grow right?" I kept asking. "Oh yes." She would reply. Now, I am not a total gardening moron. I know most plants can't live out in the freezing cold. In BB the last frost is usually around May 10th. So, I asked nice garden lady what I should do with my plants. She replied that they should be outside in a sunny place, and if it was expected to freeze overnight then I should bring them in. Okay! easy enough. I was on my way.

So, how come just a few days later my poor little herbs were so droopy and sad? I went back to the garden center again and asked them what could be wrong. Nice garden lady #2 looked horrified when I told her the herbs had been out overnight. "It was 35 degrees last night!" she exclaimed. Since when is 35 degrees freezing? I want to know. I was not deterred. Even more determined to nurture my plants, I developed a rotation system by which they would receive full sunlight at various windows and patios throughout the day, then spend the night inside. Then Keith and I drove to Kearny. When we left it was 70 and not a cloud in the sky. My plants would be so happy, I thought. And then it hailed. Not just little gravely kind of hail. I'm talking big marbles and gobstoppers falling from the sky. There are tiny decapitated flower buds scattered all around the veranda. The basil plant looks like a fallen soldier. I am left wondering if there is any hope for me.

On a cheerier note, Keith and I used our cute new dessert plates the other night. The shortcake was delicious.

"Spring has changeable weather."

So states my Nebraska: Guide to the Cornhusker State (nice book, thanks uncle Tim). They ain't kiddin'. Last week Keith and I spent a warm evening lounging in these chairs with our laptops. This week they're buried in snow! Nebraska spring, you tease me with promises of long weekend bike rides only to dump 8 inches of snow on my front lawn.

We had been expecting a visit from members of the Gautreaux family this weekend, but perhaps that will not happen after all.

In other sad ironies, Keith and I finally upgraded our television only to find we couldn't get the big game (or any channels for that matter). This is how we watched it instead.

Not much else new going on here. I am starting to deliver a few babies, which is always fun. And I continue to make small, slow improvements to our home decor. It looks as though flying will never be a part of my future since the one instructor in B.B. has left town. Instead I am seeking out more domestic hobbies like gardening, interior design, and shopping for a myriad of baby showers.