Better Homes and Gardens (Than Ours)

The bulk of our Sunday afternoon was spent in muddy mess.

It all started with my wife wanting to do something with the rock bed that sits at the front of our lawn next to our driveway  Our luck with plants in that area was somewhere between bad and non-existent.  We weren't sure why, but a very young tree that was planted there before we moved in died.  We're pretty sure we had something to do with it's untimely demise, but we weren't sure how.  Since the tree died, we have just left it as a rock garden sans plants.  She decided it was time to beautify a drab part of our front yard with some flowers.

I didn't really have a problem with it in theory.  It would make the front yard look a little bit better.  She already pulled all the weeds out of the area the day before.  So we were left with the simple job of pulling all the rocks out, digging holes, planting some flowers and putting the rocks back.

It seemed like an easy enough project.

Notice that I wrote "seemed" in that sentence.

I didn't really think about it, but I had run the sprinklers in the front yard earlier in the afternoon.  I figured the lawn going without water for two days was enough and that it needed it.  We didn't realize this was a mistake until we started taking the rocks out.  It became clear very quickly that we would be working in a gloppy, slick mud pit.

I don't know if you've ever tried to dig holes in mud.  It ain't easy.  It makes me wonder what the hell I saw in it when I was between the ages of 6-10.  Youth wasted on the young and such.  You slip and slide around because you can't get great footing.  You slowly grow taller and taller because the mud builds up on your shoes and reminds you where you've stepped with a trail of muddy footprints.  Then you have the suction that happens with mud.  You step and it's like you have suction cups attached to your shoes because pulling them back up is damn near impossible.

Needless to say mud sucks, but we pushed on.

Then there were the roots.  I'm not talking about the rap group that became Jimmy Fallon's house band.  I'm talking about tree roots that have made a home under then ground where our baby tree once died.  These weren't the roots of that sapling; these were the roots from a larger, more nefarious tree.  Every few inches we dug, we found a new root that needed to be pulled out.  They weren't connected to anything in particular, but they were still damn difficult to pull out of the ground.

It looked more and more like there was nothing little about this little project.

We finally got the roots out of the way.  We had a system in place for our hole digging and plant dropping.  We figured we had it made.  Then we hit the clay.

This is when I put two and two together regarding the death of our previous resident in the rock bed, why there was nothing before that and why the mud and water accumulated so quickly.  You see clay doesn't mix with water.  You pour water on clay and it just sits there.  It doesn't dissipate or seep into it.  It just rests like clay is a beach in Hawaii and the water is on it's honeymoon.  This leads to plants getting too much water because it has nowhere else to go.  It also means the roots will only grow down so far and start looking for new destinations.

But we soldiered on.  We figured that we would be the ones that would finally crack the code and that our planting skills (in spite of our non-green thumbs) would persevere.  Maybe it was a fools errand.  Maybe it was extra stressful because our girls were all about getting into stuff that they shouldn't.  We're still wondering if clay is edible after Ana decided to try some (Trust me I wish I was in the state of mind to take a picture of her).

Erin did take a picture of the new garden.

It looks great (at least that's what we're telling ourselves), so I have to give props to my wife for her vision to make the space more than a rock pile.  Now we're just praying that everything stays alive.  Fingers crossed.

Lazy Sunday vs Work Sunday

I love Sundays.

Best day of the week as far as I'm concerned.

Some people lean towards Fridays or Saturdays, but that is just so short-sighted.  Nothing beats a Sunday when the weather is nice.  Saturday comes with too many expectations of having to go out or have a blast to make it worth it.  And Friday comes at the tail-end of a work week when you're beat.  Sunday has no expectations.  It just wants to be enjoyed.

The trick to a good Sunday is mixing in the right amount of laziness and hard work which is exactly what we did yesterday.  Most people just go all lazy on a Sunday, but that's a mistake because you just can't appreciate the lazy without a little work to emphasize how awesome doing nothing really is.

That's exactly what we did yesterday.

I woke up with the girls at 7:30ish in the morning.  I took them downstairs immediately, so Erin could sleep a little later.  But we all ended up back in the bed around 8:30.  There was much snuggling and tickling.

From there we went out to the front yard to work on the lawn, rake leaves and pull weeds.  The girls were distracted by sidewalk chalk.  Although Grace got a little over-zealous...

We like to think that her look was inspired by Braveheart.  They did watch the Smurfs that morning for the first time, so maybe she just wanted to Smurf it up.  They also chalked my car in pink and blue.  And they tried to chalk the dog too.

After the front yard was done, we went to Home Depot to look at bark, patio furniture pads and anything else that would inspire us.  Home Depot on a Sunday afternoon/late morning is the best kind of inspiration.  "What above pavers?"  "We could do this kind of mulch."  "Let's remember this when we put a swing set or slide in."  There are so many possibilities when it comes to a Sunday at Home Depot.  I tried to not-so-subtly move her thoughts away from the patio furniture since I was planning to buy her the pads for Mother's Day.  I had to just flat out tell her it was going to be her gift when we went to Target since there were ones there that we definitely wanted.

After playing with girls, working and going shopping, I was ready for a little lazy to creep into my life.  I went and picked up some Mr. Pickle's sandwiches while the girls ate lunch and vegged out to the Giants game while the girls napped.

But the working Sunday demanded more attention.

We had to put the new pads on the seats which led us to more clean-up, bush and tree trimming and the desire to get the bark project started and finished right then before the weather started heating up.

So it was back to Home Depot to pick up the bark.  After we had poured out four bags, it became very clear that the eight I had purchased was not nearly enough.  So I was sent back to Home Depot to buy ten more bags.  The thing is I didn't even mind going back and forth because I just enjoyed that we were getting a project done, and I could still listen to the game on the radio.

As an aside, I think one of the best things in the world is getting yard work done while listening to a baseball game on the radio.  It makes me remember when I was a kid and doing work in the garage with my dad while we listened to a Giants game.  I can't help but feel a kinship to the generations that came before me.  My grandfather listened to baseball on the radio while doing work around the house and yard.  My dad did the same.  One of the many reasons why I prefer baseball to any other sport.  It is timeless.

We cleared out all the leaves and old bark that was in our back yard and spread out the new stuff which made it feel like an entirely different space.  It just feels more clean especially with the bushes and trees trimmed back.  We no longer had a secret garden.  It was now a usable space.

After the girls ate dinner, Erin and I cracked open a couple of beers and sat on our revitalized patio furniture.  We watched our girls run around on the lawn and revelled in all we had accomplished over the day.  We earned that last bit of laziness.

It was perfect.

Christmas Light of My Life

I don't think that I've broached the topic of Christmas yet in this space.  This is where loyal readers say 'Of course you haven't because you've only been writing this blog since like March, so when would you write about Christmas?  Idiot'.

First of all, no need to be so harsh.  I could have written about Christmas in June or July, but that would go against everything I stand for when it comes to celebrating holidays.  I'm well aware that Christmas is something new to discuss in my neck of the blog woods.  But I have a feeling that it should figure prominently in everything I write over the next few weeks.

This year we officially kicked off the Christmas season about as early as we ever have.  I blame (or credit, depending on my mood) my lovely wife for her unbridaled enthusiasm for all things Christmas.

She spent Saturday while I was at work putting up some decorations in the house.  She put the garland on the chimney.  She hung a wreath on the front door.  She put up star-shaped twinkling lights outside of our front window.  I'm surprised she didn't throw the tree up while she was at it.  I applaud the restraint that she somewhat showed there although I think she only did it out of fear of the girls pulling it down.

On Sunday we did some heavy duty yard work in our front yard which was loooooong overdue considering all the off days I spent NOT doing yard work.  There were leaves to blow and rake, bushes to trim, lawns to mow and gutters to clean.

Since we were already out there and had the ladder out, my wife suggested hanging the Christmas lights.  Sure.  What the heck.  So we untangled the strands we used on our trees before we went artificial (I know I'm like Scrooge and Hitler had a baby), and we strung those around the garages and along our gutter line.

It was nice to finally see our house lit up for the first time.

We didn't have lights the first year we moved in since we moved in right around Christmas and were more concerned with boxes and furniture than trees and twinkly lights.  Last year we had these two other little distractions to worry about and with which to concern ourselves.  So for the first time since moving in to our "new" house, we have decorations and lights up on the outside of our house.  We're even the second house on the block to get into the Christmas spirit.

We took Grace outside to look at the lights for the first time.  Ana missed out because she was sleepy and fussy.  The look in Grace's eyes is the reminder that every holiday is better with kids.  You could just see it all over her face.  She was simultaneously in a state of joy and wonder.  She didn't know how or why her house was all lit up, but it didn't stop her from loving it.  And to see the huge smile come across her face made my heart melt.

It made me love Christmas even more.