11:16 p.m. I am so thrilled and proud and excited and just so -- yes -- proud to announce that today I did: yard work. I did some work in what I might euphemistically call the "yard" without too many people doubling over in mirth.

Yes, it's mostly concrete and yes it can be measured by the square foot and not reach double digits, but still. There's a tree in the center, in its own little island of dirt-ish stuff. There is a vine on the wall and there are potted plants.

The photo will only show the "before" shot -- I'll take the "after" tomorrow, when the sun comes up again because I worked until dark and no flash will do justice to the glory that I've created. Sort of.

But I'm terribly inspired and feeling one with others in the journaling community who have grand and glorious gardens and who like to talk about them. I (up till now) merely read. Watch the pretty web pictures go by. Less stress and strain and bug bits.

But today! I gathered up a soldier's booty of weaponry and gloves and a ladder and the big green trashcan for clippings and I: clipped and raked and swept and trimmed. I did it all. Ants got on me! I became scratched and muddy!

But there's more -- much, much more! I dug in the soil (a little bit). I moved the potted plants and watched a whole family of those armadillo-type bugs run in circles of panic and confusion. Some were dark and some, I note, were very pale-colored, as though they've never seen the sun -- until today.

There's always drama when you go outside and become one with the earth and the soil and the worms. Today's yuck-inducing moment came when I sort of smeared a snail (by mistake) across the picnic table when I moved a plant. Bits of snail are just exactly like rubber cement.

I filled the entire green trashbin up with the proper clippings, including the pine boughs from Christmas that I cleverly draped around the base of the tree, just to get them out of the way. I also disposed of that palm-leaf collection, and you would not believe the sharp serrations that line the stems. Shark's teeth. Tore my shirt and drew blood droplets.

But I persisted right until nightfall and I could have gone on for many more hours if the light had held. I swept and watered everything, and I even washed off my gnome. I'll take a nice photo tomorrow, but for now I will glow, modestly, with pride.

All my family members are great gardeners, and maybe there's hope for me. I buried the hyacinth bulbs and who knows? Stranger things have popped up. I may even go to the Home Depot and buy a bunch of new stuff.

Potting soil. Rooting hormone. Fertilizer juice. This is it! I've turned over a new leaf. I was away from my machine for three, possibly four solid hours, give or take a peek or two.

Of course, eGroups exploded while I was gone, and now I know, for an absolute certainty, that Sasha has updated! Poor Sasha ... she must have gotten caught in the switchover from eGroups to Onelist, or vice versa, but her one little email came into my mailbox over 200 times.

She's aware of the problem, I'm happy to say, so don't bug her about it -- just pay her a visit and enjoy her journal. And, as luck will have it, this particular entry lists a bunch more journals that I'm anxious to sample, so maybe 200 trips to I'd Rather Eat Glass will be necessary, after all.

And if I have any time left over, it's back to the yard for me. Sure.