the cleaning bug

Today I got the urge to do a little cleaning - which anyone who knows me well understands the humor when I say "a little cleaning" - as I tend to go "a little crazy" with the size and scope of my projects.  On the agenda:  the garden.

I have been putting off the task of tackling the garden for some time now.  First off, I really hate spiders, I hate to say it because they have never done anything personally to me, but they really jeeb me out.  I knew the probability of running into a few spiders was high.  Second, my grandmother was a tremendous gardner... really top notch, and I have always hoped that I would fall in love with it once I had some space and kind of reconnect with her while pulling my own weeds.  But my husband nick-named me the Black Thumb many years ago (for good reason) - so I knew that the probability of this happening was low.  Not a lot on the plus side to hopping in the garden!

I will keep it short.  It didn't go well.  Let's just say that pruning is not my strong suit.  I kind of chop.  I lopped off a whole lot of greenery today.  What can I say, I like the minimalist aesthetic.  Still, I didn't get that sense of satisfaction that I was looking for.  So I turned my attention to a greater challenge.  Something impressive.  Something I have never done.  Something that could possibly kill me.  I decided to clean the 20 foot windows that look out into the garden - all by myself.  It took a little creativity, an enormous ladder, and a lot of pluck.  I am now on a high that must be similar to when you reach the summit of Everest - or something like that.