sewing my pockets shut

When I was a volunteer for three days up in Harris County at the plant sale, after the first day, I discovered myself so lacking in will-power it was horrifying. I know all those vendors with box trucks from four states, as well as all those hundreds and hundreds of plants the Callaway Gardens workers kept trucking in from the greenhouses were there for sale, to be taken home, planted, nurtured and enjoyed. And with the crowds we saw every day, feel it was a successful event for every merchant there under the Big Top tent.

But I kept seeing things I wanted, desired, with no thought of where it would get planted in my yard, or what made me think that I needed to adopt anything else that would need on-going attention. I told several people my desire for beautiful bloomers (deliberately restricting myself to only drooling over perennials - refusing to look at tempermental annuals) made me think of that Jimmy Carter interview before he was elected president, when asked if he was guilty of sin, readily confessed to Lust in His Heart. I had  lots of lust. And came home with more plants all three days I went up there to donate my time. It got to the point that I thought if 'paying customers' don't actually walk in, everyone would have probably made a profit on all the purchases made by the hundreds of volunteers who were all over the area assisting the paid employees making the event run smoothly with their donated time and skills. They sure cleaned out My pockets.

I told my carpool buddies on the second day, as we were making the 45 minute drive back up to Pine Mountain from Columbus, that I had considered sewing my pockets shut to keep me from looking at more plants (with lust in  my heart) thinking 'that would look so good in my flower beds!' But I didn't, and think I have finally gotten all those beautiful bloomers planted. And watering like crazy - often twice a day, with hopes of refreshing rains to come.

The thing is: every time I go out to dig a hole, I find something else I think wants to be re-located - either to the other side of the house, or possibly wants to go on a ride to Decatur, or might be happier if it lived in Chattanooga. So, just like trying to get the interior of the house cleaned up: how you get distracted from the original task (draining the swamp?) with so many little other things that pop up like Whack-a-mole, it's all still a work in progress, constant re-arranging. If it is not re-located here, being moved around the yard, its going into pots to share, hoping the recipients will be welcoming!