Getting in touch with nature

Pretty good day 'round these parts.

I bought some geraniums yesterday at the market I live across from (they have an annual geranium sale that I wait for) and today after picking up some new soil I got them planted in my flower boxes that sit on the ledge of my livingroom balcony. They came in flats of six plants and only in red and pink so I bought three flats - two red and one pink. I'm sharing them with my MIL who has her own flower boxes so I took six reds ane two pinks (four plants per box fit in). And as I'm one to be symmetrical I have them planted red, red, pink, red, red, pink, red, red.

Anal? Me?

I hate gardening. When I owned a home I tried to spend as little time gardening as possible. I'd shove some flowers in the ground, hopefully after my ex had gotten the soil ready for me, but weeding and fertilizing and trimming and all that jazz is for the birds. Getting my hands dirty doesn't sit well with me and dirt under my nails is enough to make me get a little crazy. I'm too cheap to buy gardening gloves so I use the next best thing - unpowdered latex exam gloves. Taking care of a quadriplegic means I have a ton of those things and they make pretty good gloves for planning flowers. They fit close, protect your hands from dirt and you can just pitch them when you're done.

Such a clever Kate I am.

So my geraniums are planted, watered, the little plant fertilizer sticks (with guano!) shoved in the dirt and now I'll just wait for them to grow and bloom. All I have to do is remember to water them which sounds easy but I tend to forget sometimes until B says "You ever gonna water those poor plants?".

Nag, nag, nag!