Write about: the hill.
Spent most of my garden time seeding today. It's amazing how much can get done with two helpers: squash, cucumbers, zucchini, beans, and corn seeds are all finally in the ground. There was even a couple of brief periods of weeding in there while they either waited for me to get organized (where the hell did those seeds go?) or to do the solo part of the work (row marking, mostly).
So now the seeding is basically done. I'll get another row of beans in the soil in a week or two, there might be some more squash and pumpkins to add, but the vast majority of that stage of our garden is finished for the year. Behind schedule, certainly, but I can finally check that one off my list.
Tomorrow shall be spent weeding. That's it, just pulling weeds out of the ground. I have waiting a long time to get to this point.
Get to the top first, before all of the others.
That's all I have to do. Simple enough, right? I'm in good shape, I had a healthy breakfast this morning. Wearing the right shoes for the terrain.
But of course it's not that simple. It never is, is it?
Just look at these guys I'm competing against. It's like they were all created in some secret laboratory, designed for peak physical performance and... no, that's probably about it. I'd run circles around them in math class, destroy their confidence in the band room, eat their souls in biology.
We're not in a classroom though, are we? No, we're at the bottom of this stupid hill, all of us pretending to not feel the chill in the early morning air. All eyes on the prize, standing way, way up there. Waiting for the first of us to arrive to claim her as his own.
Damn you Ashley Jones for putting me through this.