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This is our front yard…
Actually, wait a minute. You shouldn’t look at this unprepared. Go get yourself a cup of tea, a stiff drink, or a bowl of ice cream. Whatever fortifies you in your times of need.
You ready?
Okay.
This is our front yard:
Pretty grim, eh? We’ve got logs that still haven’t been shipped off to the sawmill, the infamous Drip-o-Matic shingle dipping station (version 2.1!), a canoe and kayak that really should be stored in a more appropriate manner, random detritus laying hither and yon, and dead trees clogging the background. And, of course, it’s all brought together by the unifying beauty of fill and topped off by our plasticked porch. It had better be unplasticked for enjoyment pretty soon considering that it is getting warm out and the time between when it gets warm and when the black flies and mosquitoes come out is pretty short, but that’s another story.
Yes, our front yard is extremely depressing. This past weekend it was sunny and beautiful out and Cherie spent a good deal of time lamenting that she couldn’t take the baby out and spend the afternoon on the grass, because there was no grass. There’s not likely to be grass anytime soon, either. It was looking like our kid would have to grow up without grass and that just doesn’t seem right.
So it was quite a nice surprise when Cherie came home from work on Monday to discover that Michael had done this:
That’s a nice layer of topsoil that’s been seeded with grass seed.
Yes, he planted his wife and daughter a little grass patch. Say it together, everyone: Awwwwww.
Annabel is very excited and is ready to get in there and start on her first grass stains:
Sorry, sweetheart. It’s not quite ready yet. The package says germination takes five days. But then we’ll have a picnic.
Here’s how the Blog Update conversation has gone around here recently:
Day after we update:
C: It feels so nice to not have the blog hanging over our head.
M: Agreed. All that pressure to come up with something to say. Who needs it?
C: I’m not going to wait so long next time.
One week later:
C: We should update.
M: Didn’t we just do an entry? Besides, there isn’t anything going on.
C: You’re right. I’ll wait a bit longer.
Two weeks later:
C: Do we have anything to write about?
M: Nope.
C: Darn. Well, we’ll have to think of something. It’s been a while.
Three weeks:
C: Okay, we really need to write something or we are going to lose everyone.
M: We could write about how I put plastic up all around the porch to make a winter workshop.
C: That’s old news. We missed the opportunity on that one. No one cares about the winter workshop in April.
M: How about the kitchen?
C: We haven’t done anything else to the kitchen.
M: We can talk about what we will do to the kitchen.
C: Best to not get their hopes up.
Four weeks:
C: GAH! The blog pressure is back! We are such slackers and need to write something. We have to have done something!
M: We created the office.
C: Aha! The office! Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll start an entry.
Five weeks:
M: How’s that entry?
C: Oh man. Writer’s block. I’ve got nothing. It’s crap. Terrible, terrible crap. Plus I’d rather watch Top Chef than write.
M: I hear ya on that!
Six weeks:
C (muttering while curled up in a fetal position on the floor): Need to write, need to write, need to write.
M: Perhaps you are taking this whole blog thing a little seriously?
C: If we don’t write anything we’ll lose the narrative thread of the blog. And then WHAT WILL HAVE BEEN THE POINT OF THE WHOLE THING?!?!
M: Okay, really, I think you might need to relax about it. You’re scaring the baby.
C: I am going to write this stupid entry if it kills me. I am going to make this office entry exciting!
M: M-kay. You do that.
C: Uh oh.
M: What?
C: I don’t really remember what we did to the office.
Six weeks and one day:
M: How’s that entry coming?
C: I don’t want to talk about it.
As you can see, we are suffering from a bit of mud season ennui. Hang in there. We’ll be back.
PS- Oh yeah. We made ourselves an office. Someday you might hear about it.
PPS- Here’s a photo of Annabel the Speed Demon on her Uncle Clinton’s boat during our recent trip to Florida. Does this at all save this entry?
