Yardwork

Man do I hate to love yardwork.





It's sad.





I've been a man all my life... and when I think about it, you know you're getting old, boring, or simply uncool when you find yourself looking forward to weeding, gardening, and mowing the lawn. It is an even lower step into uncoolitude when you find yourself oogling over trees. TREES!! What the F? Why am I SO EXCITED about buying cypress trees? I'm not sure, but I love how they look and I hope they take nicely to our garden and grow well there. Hopefull I won't kill them with my quasi-retarded green thumb. I'm not in the green-thumb gifted and talented program like some of us (ahem...Brice, Steve, Diana). I'm still in the remedial green thumb curriculum. I don't ride a short bus, but I am required to wear knee pads, a helmet, and can only use the plastic spade and the short shovel. Maybe one day I'll evolve...





But man, don't those trees look nice?? Just picture them as they fill out and grow as tall as the roofline! See that's what I mean -- making comments like that exemplifies how lame I am becoming. Kim, shoot me now. Back at St. A's if you told me I would have ever said some of the things I"m saying these days about landscape etc., I would have told you "Ohhh Kim! For the love of God...Arrghhhhhh..." CLEARLY that joke will leave every other reader of this blog rivited, and in a state of intense, absolute ponderage. (I'm making up more words here) And I am certain it will induce a few sleepless nights for all due to the unbearable overwhelming suspense. ...or perhaps not.

Here are 2 pics for the next post related to the beach weekend and baby shower (local). There I am like a child... playing in the sand. It's amazing how easily I am amused. Nothing has changed. If you right-click on the picture of Meghan and I you'll note the genuine Hawaiian lays. I know, I have spelled it like the potato chip company, but I do not know how else to spell it.