SPRING BREAK, SORRY!

It's still Spring Break.  

John, a school bus driver who's off for these days, said, "I see you've already got that sorry game out.  Get it?  A pun."  And he chuckled. 

He'd looked over the pony wall to the kitchen table to where the game of Sorry was all set up.

It'd been years.  I'd forgotten the rules.  There's 4 colored markers on the start that have to go around the board to home.  Drawing cards numbered 1 and 2 get you out.  But a 4 makes you go backwards.  A sorry card lets you switch places with an opponent.  I thought we'd never get around that board!

When I got the card directing a switch with an opponent, the song "I'm sorry, so sorry" by Brenda Lee ran through my head. "Please accept my apology."  Now, her song is running through your head, too, I'll bet.  LOL.

Anyway, at last, we were each 1 space from The Finish.  Who would win?

Like a horse racing on an circular track we were neck in neck most of the game.  And then, I got a 1 to get my last yellow guy into home, "I beat you!  Barely, but I beat you.  That was wild."

My flower pots on the deck were wild, too.  

They needed purged of debris and freshened up with new soil.  That's my second goal for each day of spring break, to work in my flower beds.

So, I blended in some topsoil and potting soil before adding some pretty pink flowers, a couple pretty purple ones, and one that was white with purple edges.  There was room in the big one for some freesia bulbs.  I've never grown them.  We'll see if the soil and weather conditions on our hill are conducive to their growth.

And then, my winning day took a turn.

I had to dig up those flowers.  Dig them back up!

Silly me, thought I'd bought begonias.  That's what I reached for in the  store's displays.  But, they must've had other potted flowers mixed in the same spot because while I was matching colors and setting one next to another for compatibility, I bought the wrong ones.

They weren't begonias.

"Hey, sis," and I was hoping against hope since I lack experience and knowledge of this flower, "can African Violets live outdoors."

She cut to the quick, "Think of it.  They are named AFRICAN violets!  Sorry, sis."

She was sorry, the flowers were sorry, and I was sorry.  

Time to change games.