I have to say that being done with the knitting part of my Sweet Mary Jane has really made my lawn a nicer place. Yes, I still haven't done the blocking. Call it lazy (I'll hunt you down and kill you) or just call it avoidance (best friends for life!) either way, it's pushing me to work on other pressing issues.
So, while avoiding my finishing project, and neglecting to shove the BSJ into the postage paid mailing envelope, I worked on my lawn.
You see, the dear sweet Ogre brought home 12 bags of mulch. He was even kind enough to remove them from his car and place them close to where they would end up.
He did warn me that the bags smelled like someone barfed on the pallet they were on. Ogres have very sensitive noses, and I just thought he was overreacting. As it turns out, he wasn't overreacting, he was just wrong about the barf.
Remember in grade school when someone threw up, instead of actually cleaning it up it would just be covered with sawdust? I am under the belief that the Ogre went to some creepy, fly by night zombie run landscaping place and bought 12 bags of actual barf encrusted sawdust.
As I opened the bag I was like "no-way, it's just the power of suggestion, this just smells like mulch, it's not throw up, I can handle this, I have 3 smelly pigs. Uh, this really does smell like barf."
Since it was going to rain anyway, I figured it would help wash out the smell.
It did rain, and it didn't help. The whole neighborhood was filled with the lovely smell from my yard. The little kids in the neighborhood were all making fake barfing sounds, the family that was going through the 'for sale house' down the road walked up and down the block asking if it always smelled so bad.
I caused chaos while trying to be a good, weed free neighbor. I love it! For those wondering, the people moving are not moving because of me, my Ogre or my pigs. I asked. They are moving because they hate certain other neighbors, certain loose in the streets, craps in lawns eats garbage dog owning neighbors. Oh, I made that up. But it isn't because of us, I really did ask.
Now, with all the lawn work lately, every time I close my eyes, I see an imprint of crabgrass. It's like looking at the sun, it's been burned into my brain. All I want to see when I close my eyes is yarn.
Actually, I really want to see a finished basement, with my current furniture down there and all 3 pigs happily playing in finished basement. While I sit on in a peaceful upstairs, or screened in porch with a big fresh basket of yarn, organized supplies, all of my Interweave Knits back issues in magazine holders, a cup of tea and Carina's new book.
Isnt' that dreamy. It's a lot to see when closing my eyes. It beats finishing that Sweet Mary Jane though.