Ow

Look! here is what I got for Mother's Day. No, not the cowboy, the dirt. For several years now I've been asking for some dirt to fill in my garden area so I can get rid of the lovely red Kansas clay that dominates. One flooded basement later and voila! Dirt. My husband used my red clay to regrade around the house so hopefully no more watery basement, and maybe, just maybe, we'll get some decent tomatoes this summer.

In other Mother's day news: we spent the day in Lawrence doing family stuff. I managed to steal away with my two older boys and spend some time on campus at the Spencer art museum. One of my professors had an exhibit of some prints and I wanted the boys to see his stuff. This was the professor who told me I should drop out of graphic arts and pursue a fine arts degree. I loved him for that but didn't take his advice. I regret it some but the ultimate outcome would probably have been the same.

Here is how I live with my regret (albeit minor). When I am feeling blue about not becoming the famous artist I was surely destined to be (please note sarcasm) I look at the four little lives I've had a hand in shaping. God put them in our family and give them my husband and I to parent them. One moment with them is more satisfying than the greatest painting ever made. Nothing I could create would ever compare. That totally works for me.

Back to the dirt. My husband and I spent the day yesterday hauling dirt all over the yard in an effort to get it distributed before today's forcasted rain. Hence the title of this post. Ow. My muscles hurt. I'm also aching from the aforementioned "running with my daughter" plan but today it's mostly my shoveling muscles that ache. It would have been nice to get some planting done to hold the dirt down during the rain but that will have to wait a couple of days now. Now, anyone got any advil?