This weekend, through an unspoken agreement, my bride and I did about as little as we possibly could. Sure, we hit the Hahn Ah Reum (sp? who cares) for cheap vegetables and the Lowe’s for some discounted plants, but otherwise we subsisted off leftover food from the party last weekend and laid around the house.

Saturday morning we tackled the Sleep Number bed, which was out on the front porch in four boxes waiting to be assembled. We had to run out and pick up a Hollywood frame for it after we realized it wouldn’t fit in our existing frame. The base is basically a big plastic Lego set that snaps together, and the top half is a glorified air mattress. Stick in some foam, zip it up, inflate to the desired pressure, and you have a bed. I’d like to say our first night was a dream on a cloud, but it felt more like insomnia in the Arctic. Repeated attempts to fine-tune our Sleep Numbers proved fruitless. (When sleeping flat on one’s back, the Sleep Number is, say, 50. When sleeping on one’s side, the number goes to 55, which is harder than 50, due to the change in surface area on the air chamber. This little fact is not publicized by the salespeople.) This morning I think we both slept much better on the new bed—not having the air conditioning blowing directly on my face and using a comforter made a difference for me, at least.

Sunday we farted around in the backyard gardening and generally did as little as possible. We did try to measure out the boundary lines of our property to see if we’re on the hook for removing the huge dead tree on the back corner of our property, and our measurements came up about ten feet short of the trunk—which made me feel great. Later, our neighbor’s son stopped over and tried to show me where he had surveyed the land in one of his previous careers, and in his memory, the pegs are behind the tree trunk, placing the accursed thing directly on our property. I’m just going to have to break down and hire a surveyor to get the official word, and then sell some plasma to afford a treecutting service. (A fellow came over this afternoon to look at the tree in the driveway, which he quoted us $1500 to trim back. Right. I’ll stop off and make my first blood deposit this afternoon.)

It looks like one of the 100+ gladioulos we planted is finally blooming, and there are two more on the way. However, the rest of the crop is still sort of leafy but not throwing up flowers. However, there’s an eggplant starting in the greenhouse, as well as the first of (hopefully) several tomatoes.