Tonight, my husband and I went to my parents’ house to help them with some gardening work. They have several nicely landscaped and mulched areas, but they haven’t really been able to get around to weeding and mulching them yet.

We spent an hour pulling and digging and grunting and squatting and bending over. Honestly, I did most of the grunting and complaining, because I’m kind of dramatic that way. We filled up two wagon-loads with weeds and invasive plants and dumped them in the woods. OK. Honestly, HE dumped them in the woods.

Even though I got filthy and sweaty and kept forgetting i shouldn’t use a muddy, mulchy glove to push my hair out of my face? It was amazingly fun. I already hurt. My poor knees. I have elderly knees, I fear.

It also got me thinking about roots. I mean, above the ground, there is this green thing. Maybe tall and spindly. Maybe with dark green, broad leaves. Maybe with odd, purplish pods. And you look at that thing, and you think, that’s that. That’s a plant. That’s what I need to pull up.

And I understand that you need to pull things up by the roots. But man!

The roots are a whole other world. They are colorless, and dirty, and stinky. They are spindly and strong. They are wide, and when you pull them up, stuff moves. The surface does not look the same, just without the plant. Mulch that was underground is now above the ground. Worms and spiders erupt from the ground at the disturbance. The roots break and run.

Tonight, I was pulling tall grass. The really thin stuff with a little plume on the end (not a gardener). And you’d think – OK, easy! It’s skinny. It can’t have these gnarly roots like the blue things! And it doesn’t. The roots are thin. But they also snake up to a foot away! So pulling up the grass upsets lost of other stuff. Even stuff I didn’t want to pull out of the ground came up because pulling the grass root up just kind of bumped the other stuff out.

So, of course all of this got me thinking metaphorically. And I was thinking how sometimes when you get the root of weeds in your life, you accidentally knock some other plants out of the dirt too. But, I guess the good thing about plants and dirt, even metaphorically, is that with some care, you can usually get things to grow again.

Mr. Thor and I just got back yesterday from a whirlwind trip to Boston. Don’t you love when people say “whirlwind trip?” Maybe I shouldn’t say it, because there was actually a tornado in Mass today. Do you think we left our whirlwind there?

We said that we were just going to take it easy. No plans, just meeting up with friends on Sunday afternoon and a Red Sox (!!) game on Monday night.

What actually happened? We were both like kids in a candy store, unable to stop moving, looking, touching, walking… until our bodies simply gave out under the forces of heat and/or exhaustion.

I was too hot to eat much, and in the mornings I couldn’t handle more than coffee. Mr. Thor, on the other hand, was an eating machine.

I want to write a more extensive post, maybe even a little hotel review here. But for now, I leave you with this. Sunday night, I totally and completely “crapped out” – no more walking, no putting my glasses back on, not really even getting out of bed.

However, I was also completely ravenous, as I had eaten approximately one cannoli and five slices of portabella mushroom that day and walked approximately 73 miles, also.

Apparently, Mr. Thor was more tired than he initially let on, because it took me 2.5 seconds to convince him to… order ROOM SERVICE!

The previous night, I had tentatively pulled out the menu and he scoffed. This night, he asked to take a closer look. Hallelujah.

I ordered a cup of clam chowdah, a wedge salad, and a cheese plate. I think Mr. Thor thought this was completely ridiculous. OK, I know he thought it was. He kept shaking his head (as he shoveled in steak) and saying, “I can’t believe you ordered THAT.”

It was wonderful, and marvelous, and everything in between. I wish I could touch 39 any night of the week, honestly.