Cold Beer After a Hot Day


Sometimes this is the sum total of what I need to enjoy my life. A pretty summer day. Hard work. A feeling of accomplishment. And a cold beer. 

Today, for the first time in 15 years as a homeowner who aspired to garden, I got every plant I bought at the garden store into the ground or a pot. I didn't let them wilt in their sad, plastic containers as I walked past them, day after day, declaring that tomorrow I would get them in the ground. I didn't curse myself for the money spent then wasted. I plodded through four hours in a pretty decent heat and got everything where it needed to go. A beer, a Bud, seemed like the appropriate toast to this sweetly Americana achievement.  

Now let's see if I water.