Hurry, Friday

I need to garden.
I desperately need to get outside amidst the maple helicopters and grass clippings and get busy cleaning up winter's detritus. I have yet to clear the dried skeletons of last year's perennials to make way for the season's new growth. Old leaves are still blanketing the rain gardens and native plant borders, though they are no longer needed to protect tender shoots from cold winds and serve only to deaden the subtle colors of the newly bloomed columbines and native iris. The birdbaths and feeders need to be scrubbed and filled again. The new beds I so blithely drew on grid paper last week have to be dug, turned and amended with compost before I can even think about buying the new peonies, lavender, coneflowers, salvia and sedum that will provide summer blooms against the backdrop of the existing drifts of blue iris.
But, I dread the digging. The ground here is insanely rocky. There is no simple way to turn the earth; a shovel is a poor weapon against such stubborn, stony land. This job will require pry bars, pickaxes, rakes and maybe a backhoe to finish. Oh, and I forgot the hatchet and bow saw to cut the tree roots.
Maybe I'll just sleep on Saturday.