Erik got called in last night at 3 in the morning. He had to report in for regular work at 6 a.m., so instead of coming home and waking me up twice--he slept on the couch at work. Little did he know I was awake, waiting for him to get back, hoping he could get at least another hour of sleep. Still, I went back to sleep at 5 and slept until he came home to take a quick shower. O'Henry-esque moment in our relationship.
I'm off to conquer whatever crabgrass I can. I'm conflicted. It will break my back to dig it all up but I can't spray--for all the pollutants it would put into the general atmosphere as well as in my body. But if I look at it one more day, I'm going to scream. Plus, it's encroaching on where I want to plant my tomatoes.
If you don't hear from me again, imagine that I'm out back, collapsed under shovels, wheelbarrows, and gloves, having been bested by a carnivorous batch of weeds.