Feel free to crack out the shorts, sunscreen and sunglasses because it's now officially summer.

Forget calendars. Trust me, it's not Sum-Sum-Summertime until you see a half-crippled 52-year-old woman shuffling around the house in her best Fred Sanford "I'm coming 'Lizabeth" walk, looking for the Tiger Balm and a heating pad for her back.

As of 6 p.m. last night that happy state arrived.

As my three loyal readers well know, it's not summer until I get some insane self-crippling gardening idea in my head that involves massive amounts of heavy digging and moving of soil. This is my way. This year I decided that I would dig up several thousand daffodils for dividing now and replanting in the fall so that I can expand my daffodil meadow.

Why is it these things always SEEM like such a good idea?

Years ago, as a matter of self-preservation, the spousal unit decreed that he would occasionally help me with my gardening schemes, but I was NOT to count on his presence. Not becoming my Gardening Enabler was a wise move on his part. I must confess that knowing that I may have to take full responsibility for my hair-brained scheme du jour visionary landscaping projects does tend to rein me in somewhat.

Somewhat.

After several days of truly back-breaking work, the bulbs are dug up, divided, hung and drying. As if that wasn't suffering enough, I decided to dig up several trillion hostas and divide them, as well. Oh yes, I'm all about the thoughtful, reasoned projects.

For those of you not familiar with the wonders of the hosta, it's a plant from Japan grown primarily for it's lovely foliage. The thing is that if you give them a few years in good soil, hostas will grow huge and produce dense, fibrous root balls that weigh oh, say, just slightly less than your average small car.

It takes tremendous effort to pry them out of the ground. Then you have to machete through the rootball, turning them into smaller hunks o' hosta for replanting. Suddenly, you have free, bonus smaller hunks o' hosta that can be used to create a NEW garden bed because jeepers creepers can we EVER have too many flower beds full of hostas?

My thoughts, exactly.

Oh, and don't let me forget to mention that now that summer has come so have the biting bugs. Around here June is the month we re-enact Kiss of the Vampire with me cast as the Kiss-ee and several billion black fly, horse fly and deer fly playing teensy tiny vampires.

I have problems with bug repellants that contain DEET. Oh, I could ramble on and on about the unsightly itchy rashes it produces after contact with my skin, but really, I think the phrase "unsightly itchy rashes" pretty much says what needs to be said here.

Thus, I use citronella, a natural compound which is an amazingly ineffectual bug repellant but which my spousal unit claims has a lock on the title of Best Penis Repellant Ever.

Oh yes, the moment I douse myself in the hated odour it's as if I've erected a security perimeter around my person. He will not come within five feet of me because of the smell. If I want to have any hope of The Marital Duties, I have to not only scrub off the hated citronella but also anoint my person with perfume in case, you know, a few citronella molecules have escaped the soap and water.

Perfume brings bugs.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

June -- the month of mad gardening projects, bugs, citronella and far more celibacy than two healthy people should ever have to endure. Thank heavens for fluffy pillows. They do such a good job of muffling the sobs.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 292.4 miles (470.5 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers