Neglected

I was dismayed to find the top had blown off my little potting shed when I went to the garden yesterday. All the tools and containers in the top compartment were soaking in a half-inch of rainwater, so before I could do anything else, I needed to empty them and clean up the mess. 

By the time I was finished, though, I thought it may have been for the best, since I couldn't remember the last time I had organized that space. (I was still a little regretful that all the gloves were soaked through, especially since that meant weeding barehanded for the rest of the afternoon.) After filling five garden bags full of weeds and whatnot, I felt some fat drops of rain on my face, and I hurried to put away all the things I had drying so that I could replace the lid and secure it with the big rock I usually use to keep it from blowing open. 

Looking for a place to put the gloves so they would continue drying, I opened the right side of the lower cupboard and pulled out some plant saucers. There I saw the mummified remains of a little mouse who had made a cozy home of shredded landscape fabric and wood chips. I shoved my hands into a pair of wet gloves to dispose of the poor fellow and vowed to give that shed a thorough cleaning this summer.