Gardening was not in our plans this weekend, but when my parents called to say they were digging out their landscaping IMMINENTLY to redo it, I had no choice but to make an impromptu trip to salvage some plants doomed to a slow death in the sun. This is one of the many times I am initially saddened at my lack of pickup truck ownership status, and then quickly gladdened when I realize that a vehicle allowing me to transport MORE plants would not actually make my life any easier – it would strand me, sweating in the sun, for additional hours as I struggled to get even more things transplanted.
I tucked plants into every available space in the Civic except the glovebox. I had a moment of panic when I saw a policecar and realized that there was no way I could OPEN the glovebox if I were to be pulled over and asked to show my registration. It was around that time that I also started to wonder about the legality of operating a vehicle with my head surrounded by a boxwood. At one point during my trip, a car of laughing college kids stopped beside me to ask WHY I had my car packed with trees. In my defense, they were not trees, but shrubbery. (My dad wants me to make that point clear for all Monty Python fans.)