With my old straw hat crammed down over my gardening “do”, which is two pigtails, I stepped outside the backdoor. Right away, I knew exactly what was causing my restlessness. The sky was overcast, and according to Weather.com, local temperatures were 76 degrees Fahrenheit and humidity at 63%. The air felt like a hot, sticky blanket that you could stir like soup. It was perfect pre-storm gardening weather.

Gardening with a camera is one of my favorite things to do. Walking around the outside of the house, I take “before” pictures. The tree mess on the north side of the house is “so deep, so wide and so tall, that I can’t pick it up — there’s no way at all.” I wish for a Dr. Seuss Cat-in-the-Hat Picker-Upper, and don’t go there. That particular emotional storm was part of what sent me outside.

The south side of the house has normal spring mess: twigs and branches from pruning, messy bits left from making garden beds, and hoses hastily moved to facilitate mowing. I note that the dolly got left out when the lawn was last mowed, and that it need put away before the rain starts. The camera needs its battery charged, so I put away my toy, and get to work on the things I can fix while trying not to worry about the things I can’t.

Three hours later, the hoses are neatly coiled and separated into usable, and not usable. The soaker hoses are distributed, ready for use, in case the promised storm doesn’t bring enough water, and a broken office cart has been pressed into service as a future planting bed. The garlic and the hosta beds have been weeded, as well. I head back in to check on the camera battery, make some notes and consider my next, best move.