The Party's Over

 The 2019 American Hosta Society Annual Convention has come and gone   It's over.  Done.  Finished.  

All the weeding, all the cleaning, all the preening, all the planning, all the running is over.  All that remains is my extremely sore back as a reminder that it ever happened.  I overdid it this time, sad to say.  When I get up from sitting down, I cannot straighten up without sound effects.  I closely resemble someone who is searching for coins on the floor, in fact, I could put this new posture of mine to good use helping people locate items they've dropped.  Hey, a new career. 

I woke up around 7:30AM this morning and am truly enjoying just sitting here writing this post.  What a relief not to have to race around this rock pile looking for weeds and whatever other catastrophe might be needing immediate attention.  Adrenalin can carry me just so far, apparently.  I will fully admit it, this ol' girl is exhausted.  Carl is still sleeping, which is very unusual for him.  Though I've never had a hangover, this is what I imagine it feels like.  Remind me to never get drunk, it's not worth it.

Also, note to self to never volunteer for another major garden walk in June, especially in a year of unending rain and cloudy skies.  Carl reminded me that seven weeks ago, we still had snow on the ground, and that's very true, we did.   

April 8, 2019, seen above, and the snowbanks that wouldn't die.  See the pipe ball, shivering in the dirty snowbank?  It was another two weeks before the snow finally melted.  

 Here's approximately the same view, June 15, 2019, the day of the hosta convention tour.  The pipe ball looks much happier now, doesn't it? 

I'm bone-tired today.  The phone rang and on instinct I picked it up without waiting to see if I knew the number.  I don't do that any more, that's what we have caller ID for, good grief, I'm really off my game today.

"Hello, is this the golf course?" the male caller asked. 

I sat there, perplexed, holding the phone.  

"No," I croaked out.  "No."  Wow, I scared myself, I sounded like a bear growling.  

The man on the phone stammered, "Oh, I must have the wrong number."  

"Uh-huh," I replied.  

"Sorry," he said.
 
"Yep," I said. 

Sparkling conversation is to be had here today, I can see that.