So, suddenly people are in a tissy about me and my garden.

I'm about ready to remind them, in no uncertain terms, that they have hired a professional to teach gardening to these kindergarteners through fourth graders and they need to bud out or take orders from ME. I mean really the garden has existed for 8 fucking years, and has been little more then raised beds of lawn in that time, cause hardly anyone tries to use them. They've had their chance, now it's time for me to run the show, and if they can't do what I need then don't, just don't, cause you'll only be in my FUCKING way.

At any rate, Mrs. Fluff just called to tell me that she got me, and two other male teachers, released from our meeting tomorrow. Really I'm thankful about not having to listen to the mindless dribble that I'm sure the man from central office would be spewing forth all freaking day tomorrow, even through a working lunch. Mrs. Fluff then proceeded to tell me all the things we need to do out in the garden, and that the other two men and her, would be helping 'us.' I politely, actually rather bluntly, told her those were NOT the things we needed to be doing, and promptly ticked off the things that did need to be done, if she really wants to help AT ALL. I deflated her sails big time, but really she would have had us running in circles and that's so not productive. She wanted to rototill the bermuda grass filled beds. All that does is chop up the root system, and each of those chopped up little bits then becomes a NEW bermuda grass plant, and all you have succeeded in doing is compounding your grass in your vegetable garden problem a hundred fold. If I have my way we will be sifting the soil in the garden beds trying to get all the damned fucking bermuda grass out of it. Can you tell I hold a special place in my heart for bermuda grass? It's a lot more labor intensive but about the only effective way to remedy this problem short of herbicidal tendencies. beuracracy