Monday morning, coming down

I'm not really talking about me, although I'm certainly not quite as high up on that cloud of excitement and empowerment I was on Saturday after scolding a U.S. Senator.

My husband is still shaking his head over that one.

I'll post the photoadayJune picture (how serendipitous is it that today's prompt is "door"?) as soon as I publish this post so you can see what I'm talking about.

I came out into the living room this morning and noticed one of the sliding glass door panels was completely shattered. I looked for a brick or a rock on the patio, but found nothing. Then – of course! – I Googled and learned that spontaneous shattering of tempered glass sometimes just happens.

What a bitch.

As I sit here at my dining room table, the door is behind me and I can hear it. It's literally creaking. The spider-vein cracks are probably still spreading, although I can't see them do so, as when a car windshield cracks.

I've called the hardware store, gotten a couple numbers (an Andersen window representative and an installer) and am waiting for the somewhat civilized hour of 8 a.m. to call the first one, who will need to inspect it and tell us what to order.

Nothing like reality to bring you back to reality.

And nothing like the threat of rain to get you outside, weeding the herb bed and spreading the rest of a truckload of mulch. I got the landscape bed mulched last night after dinner and there truly is something magical about a freshly mulched flower bed. It's just lovely – so neat and tidy and professional-looking. I'm hoping the herb bed will look just as awesome – even though it's filled with quite a hodgepodge of plants, not all of which are herbs – when I finish it.

As both of you already know, the herb bed is circular and sliced into wedges, like a pie. I'm going to use dark mulch on the slices and crushed coconut shell mulch on the paths between the slices. I think it will look pretty enough for a picture.

When I was out there last night working on the weeds, I found four volunteer tomato plants. I'm leaving them there – free food! – and thankful I feel no need to make this herb bed a showpiece. Heh.