The hurrier I go, the behinder I get!

I spent most of the weekend quilting but still didn't finish my project. Also watched the tornadoes bouncing around Alabama on TV, and spent a few minutes in the basement while a big wind of some description passed over here.

All my seeds that I sprouted looked hardy until I put them in planters on the porch. Now most of them are dead, but I think a few will make it, if I can keep them from drowning. (See the very bottom of this blog for the seed packets; I think I've saved some of everything except the delphiniums and the Chinese lanterns.) Need to get out there and dig around to make garden space for them, and try to do the thing right. Watching Jerry (in the little yellow house next door) make 3 excellent garden plots has shown me how to do it. He got his all done and planted before our recent rainy days set in.

I can get along pretty well in the daytime, keeping myself busy with this and that. But in the evenings, when I settle down and try to find something on TV worth looking at, I get the strongest urge to write. Really don't know why; I think I've demonstrated about a million times that I don't have much of a tale to tell. Probably, what I need to do is stop comparing my writing to the books I read. Just do it because I want to. I guess. I don't know. Dammitall. Or 90% of it.