No, I'm Really Not Speedy Gonzales

I'm sure I'm not the only one that loves spring. Since I've become a bit of a garden addict, I just love seeing my flowerbeds fill up with new flowers. My hydrangea bush has started to bloom, as well as all my rose bushes. Ahhh....I just love it.

But this year, I need to get some bulbs in the ground to start filling up some new flowerbeds that I set up last fall. Hopefully, if all goes according to plan, I'll have those bulbs in the ground by this weekend. I've only ever planted bulbs once before, and had mixed results, so I'm a little nervous about doing it again. This year, I've already bought some dahlia bulbs to plant in the flowerbed in my front yard. If they bloom, I'll upload some pics.....cross your fingers for me. *grin*

My gardening plans would've started a little sooner had I not had a little accident at the house about a week and a half ago. I have now learned that I cannot race through my house like Speedy Gonzales. There are consequences when I do that. :o)

DH decided to order pizza the other night, and told me beforehand: "Hon, when the pizza guy gets here, will you come and get the dogs so they don't race out the front door?" (Bella, our chug, likes to escape out the front door if she gets a chance, and runs all over the neighborhood like she's going on vacation or something.) I said I'd help him with that when the time came. About thirty minutes later, the pizza is at the house. I'm in my newly-cleaned craft room, and race to get to the living room to keep the dogs under control. Just before I make it out of my room, I bang (yes, bang) my left pinky toe into the desk that's right next to the door. Oh. My. Gosh. I have never known such pain in my whole life. And I'm sure you can visualize this scene quite well in your mind....the dogs are going nuts, hubby's trying to pay for the pizza, and I'm screaming bloody murder. I literally could not even walk to the living room, and we're talking a very short distance between my craft room and the living room. I plopped down in the hallway, and just cry like a baby because my whole foot hurts SOOO bad, and all I did was hit that little bitty toe. (Also going through my mind was what the pizza guy must be thinking.) Bella must've heard my blood-curling screams, so she comes to see if I'm alright. She then proceeds to pee right there in the hallway on the carpet....right in front of me. By this time I'm thinking, "Could this night get any worse?" Yep...sure could...she decided she'd do the same thing in the living room. Needless to say, she was not my biggest fan that particular night....didn't like hubby much, either.

Hubby was so sweet for the rest of the night, though, I must say. Cleaned up the doggie pee, and was checking up on me the whole time. Got me an icepack for my foot, got it all propped up, and then he started, "Hon, do you wanna go to the doctor tomorrow?" I respond with a pleading "please don't make me go!!" He's like, "Are you sure? Your toe might be broken." I'm convinced that it's not broken because it looks normal, just a nice shade of red. (Yeah, there's a reason why I never went into the medical field.)

The next morning I decide to make an appointment to see the doc. Good thing I did, too, because my husband can diagnose stuff better than I can. Sure enough...my left pinky toe was indeed broken. Unfortunately, there's nothing they can do about that at the doctor's office except tell me to go to the drugstore and get some tape so I can wrap the pinky toe to the toe beside it. Seriously, I've lived on this earth for 28 years, and never broken a bone in my life. And when I decide that I'd like to break one, I think it should be, according to the doctor, "the smallest, most insignificant bone in your body....it's not there for much, except to probably help you balance better." Great. Well, if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it right.

So, for the past week and a half, I have worn the most unattractive shoes in my closet simply because they are the most comfortable. (Lesson #1, never throw out all your ugly shoes...you never know when you might need them.) And if you've never broken your toe, you'd think it's not that big a deal...until it is. I cannot run, I can't lift anything really heavy (yep, experienced that one firsthand), and I walk around looking like I need a cane.

Oh, and the doctor also said no yardwork. While normally I would love to hear that, I've got to work on my flowerbeds. Hubby is great at a lot of things, but planting flowers is not something that he's tried, and I don't think he really wants to. So, as long as I can get outside early enough on Friday morning before it gets up to 80 degrees (yep, the hot temps are already here in west TN), I'll sit myself on the ground, plant those bulbs, and hope that there will be fruits to my labor come summertime.