Back in April I was feeling all Martha Stewart meets Pioneer Woman and thought it would be a good idea to take a perfectly good piece of goat head infested pasture and turn it into a garden. Tilled the soil about 500 times, hauled in approximately 612 loads of horse manure. Planted my seeds indoors, carefully tended them like a newborn child, and gently transferred them into my richly fertilized s...oil after the last frost. In the evenings I would escape to my little patch of nature and carefully tend to the delicate little seedlings finding great joy and satisfaction in watching them sprout 2 inches over night. Now it's 100+ stinkin degrees, and every time I try to untangle the serious twisted mass of overgrown jungle apocalypse I instigated I end up feeling like Cruella de'Ville with a raging case of PMS. And yet, I fear next spring I'll think it's a great idea to do it all over again.