Bulbs, baths and burnt boobs

Saturday was a beautiful fall day in Ohio. I woke up early, got a month's worth of grocery shopping done, then came home and planted my last sixty-two bulbs and seven perennials. After I'd thrown away my old tennis shoes (one of which actually fell off my right foot while I was gardening!), it was only noon and I decided I'd earned a very special bath.

I still had half a Ceridwen's Cauldron from Lush and my entire "crop" of lavender for this year (six sprigs). I opened up the muslin, added my lavender, and dropped the whole thing into the bath. It was just wonderful! Not only did I get all the moisturizing bath oil benefits, but I got to enjoy knowing a big part of the luscious scent came from my efforts in my garden. And since I planted two more lavender bushes (shrubs?), next year I'll have even more to play with.

The only problem with the whole day was when I bent over to pick something up off the bathroom floor and my right breast smacked onto the heated towel rack. It's not hot enough to burn if I brush my hand against the bare metal, but in this case, the body part hitting it was both more thin-skinned and pressed down from its own weight. Thankfully, a friend to whom I whined reminded me that there's a reason I keep that aloe plant which is about the size of a small warthog (not that I have measured a lot of warthogs, it's just an eyeball estimate). Repeated applications have made the burn a lot less uncomfortable than it could have been (it's a flattish oval about 2" long).

I sincerely hope that was the end of "Stupid Week" and not the beginning of new and more stupid things!