Maryland sucks

I was supposed to get a beautiful day of gardening, all by myself, as my Mother’s Day gift.

But the skies exploded, dumping hail and flood upon us. The garden is under an inch of water. The broilers are standing in a miserable peeping huddle in the middle of an ankle-deep puddle that is their new home. The fruit trees’ new branches are slumped dejectedly with sad tattered leaves. I had to put on galoshes to go get the eggs.

It is mid-May, and the tomatoes that should have been planted a month ago are now drowning in water up to their necks. I spent all that money on garden amendments and compost and tiller rental for what, exactly?

I hate Maryland.

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