How do I let myself get talked into this?

Worst band.  Crappiest bar.  Roommate's coworkers.  One extremely toasted friend in absurdly high heels.

At the risk of sounding like Cinderella....

SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE.

Bits I Left Out

Dearest, I was reminded by the Great and Powerful Deb that I had not mentioned one or two tidbits about my weekend of gardening fun.  I am certain that this is a loss that would devastate you, so I shall correct this immediately, pausing only to breathe a word of thanks to the G&P Deb.

Thanks, Deb.

1)  I renamed lasagna gardening.  [I know, I know.  You wouldn't have survived not knowing this. Critical stuff here.]  After the forty-fifth layer of something....organic.  Yes, we'll just call it organic.  After the forty-fifth layer of something organic, I was reminded of another layered character.  At that very moment, I dubbed my activity "Shrek Gardening."  I do recognize that I am opening the door to endless, and annoying, impressions of Donkey, but what to do?  Shrek Gardening was dubbed.

2)  At one point, I looked over at my dog.  All three dogs were keeping me company as I Shrekked away [see, now it's a verb!] and HRH Tuppence Marie had just visited her stylist the previous day.  She was all clean and clipped and fluffy and white.  She lay there, happily sunning herself, enjoying the beautiful fall day, watching birds wing by and gazing up at a cloudless sky...while draped like the Queen of Sheba across my newly created Shrek garden.  I stopped Shrekking to shriek, "That's a FLOWER BED, not a DOG BED!!!!" 

I believe the look I got from her could be accurately interpreted as, "Whatevah."

3)  While I Shrekked away, Roommate helped with the yard work by doing one of her favorite things:  demo.  In yard terms, that means pruning some hapless tree or shrub within an inch of its life.  I didn't realize that while doing so, Roommate's gardening attire behaved poorly.  Her jeans had gotten too loose and wanted to slip downward.  Her shirt kept riding up in back.  If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed these minor wardrobe malfunctions and therefore not been surprised by Roommate's statement:

"I bet you're glad I put on underwear!"

I know.  It was an absolute General Foods International Coffee moment.  What else could I do but celebrate that moment in our lives?

Gardening.  It's pretty awesome.  ALmost as good as underwear.

How I Spent My Weekend

So I found a book at my local thrift store entitled "Lasagna Gardening." Surprisingly, this isn't a book that instructs on how to plant lasagnas, pan and all, nor is it a garden for growing the products needed for lasagna. This is a profound relief to me, as I've heard the mozzerella plant is an absolute bear to grow.

 No, this a book on a particular gardening technique. 

The idea is, instead of digging and tilling and plowing and amending, organic matter is simply layered on top of sod. Or craptastic soil.  Or dead bodies--no, no.  Wait.  That's a different book.  One is to create layers of this stuff like layers of lasagna.

Ahhh!  Clever, huh?

Not the cheapest gardening technique on the planet, I don't mind telling you.  On the last run to the home improvement store, I dropped a C-note on this crap.  Literally.  Steer manure.  Chicken manure.  Compost.  And a small mountain of peat moss.  Roommate was thrilled to have this in her car. Thrilled.

Because she has a hatchback with foldy seats, that's why. Volvo couldn't have carried nearly as much crap.

Heh.

Anyway, between the stuff I got on Saturday and the other organic ickiness I'd picked up the day before, I managed to lasagna three-quarters of the ugly fence line and one of the four raised bed areas.

And no, the last one is NOT a shallow grave.  Silly!  I would never do such a thing!

Heh.