Well, I knew when I proposed my weekend activities that it was a long-shot that I’d fit them all in. It was, and I didn’t.

But it was a full weekend.

Saturday, I got up with Rudi (who was leading an early morning bike ride out in Maryland) and headed out to the garden to put in some serious labor. I’m glad I did.

The neighbor had already tilled his section of the garden, so I was the lone slacker with a 15 foot by 15 foot plot that just plain looked neglected.

This is what four hours of playing in the garden looks like:

With the exception of the corner of the plot (where I could see urban detritus I didn’t want to touch without gloves), I cleared out all the dead scruff and the ground cover weeds. I didn’t turn the soil, because a) I figured that I would just wait for the rain to make it much easier for me and b) I might as well wait and clear out that back corner first and hit it all at once. Plus if I were going to go to all the trouble of adding in manure, I didn’t want it to wash away down into the creek.

I left in plants that I recognized (like the herbs), that looked like they might have been part of last year’s garden, or that I think are lovely regardless (like the violets). I’ve put photos onto Flickr and sorted them into a collection of garden shots. (As a free user, apparently I’ve maxed out my set allotment.) If you recognize any of the plants, please let me know if I should keep them or pull them.

That pretty much did me in and after a shower and a bowl of granola, I conked out on the couch for a long nap. Later in the evening, I watched Brit coms while as the rain came down and did a little test swatch for the sock heel to determine needle size.

(Right, I had a question for you knitters. If you knew the knitter you were making socks for preferred a certain heel when she knit, would that make you more inclined to use it in your pair?)

Today, dawned far too early. I got up to use the bathroom and stopped by the living room for some reason. As I did, I noticed what every basement-dweller hates to see aftering being socked by a nor’easter: water infiltration.

Yup, we were leaking — again.

We sighed heavily, shifted some things, put down newspaper, and decided we’d done as much as we could for the moment.

So we headed to the farmers’ market pretty much right as they started. And what a bounty we bought home with us! In addition to tasty breakfast pastries (the first blueberry scones of the spring!), we also picked up ramps, green garlic, spring onions, watercress, two types of lettuce, two types of greenhouse-grown tomatoes, leeks, broccoli, carrots, chives, and a cucumber (for Rudi). We also bought mascarpone, whole milk ricotta, eggs and a bouquet of daffodils and tulips.

Laden down, we returned home, unloaded the market basket, ate breakfast, and started to read the paper, before we realized the flooding had, indeed, gotten worse. The water was just seeping in through the baseboards. More things were shifted — furniture, storage bins and baskets, the rug — but all proactively to prevent later sorrow. Last year’s catastrophe turned out to be in our favor this year because the tile that they put down doesn’t soak up water the way the wood parquet did.

After a few hours of laying down newspapers and towels, the rain let up and so did the flooding. I did my taxes. Rudi cooked a yummy Spanish torta with potatoes and ramps. I baked oatmeal scotchies and started an overdue letter. We watched Because of Winn-Dixie, which was as cute as the book and did not, as the trailer had suggested, include a computer generation of the dog winking. We put clean sheets on the bed and played with the cats.

Monday’s plans? Why it’s a lovely day for a voting rights march, don’t you think?