Here are the cold, hard facts:

Thirty-one 12×8” holes dug in dirt approximating cement.

Weeds, some I suspect from alien worlds, tackled and beat back so Chloe, her mom and a shovel could get through to dig thirty-one 12×8” holes in said cement.

Thirty-one designer Daylilies with their creepy octopus-like roots planted in holes chipped from concrete, watered and fertilized generously.

Mulch deposited with great care and artistic flare around thirty-one designer Daylilies in concrete.

Thirty-one designer Daylilies left to fend for themselves in the great big, weedy world as Chloe and mother crawl into the house and collapse at my dog’s feet.

Everything hurts.

I believe my brain is trying to leak out of my right eyeball.

Writing is so far from my current capabilities that the thought of creating a single, entertaining sentence is laughable.

Ok, laughing hurts too.

Tomorrow I will either be better or I’ll be dead.

I’m leaning toward the former, especially if I can find a tub of Bengay somewhere.

I wish you all a pain-free evening with no mind matter dripping from orifices.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe