Garden goo

I am waaaaay behind in the garden.
The tomato seedlings in the greenhouse
snap at me to put them outside. No chance until next weekend.
They hate me.
The potatoes should be in the ground.
They live in some peat moss, cringing,
knowing the cat will eventually come and dig them up.

Meanwhile, I can not believe my little baby sister and
her frothmister, were not arrested in any of those
countries they visited.

Payola, I guess.