Yard work and Memorial Day

Well, two years ago we put in the shed. And thought we were cool.

Last year we put in the sprinkler system. And knew we were cool.

This year--the fence (not yet started, but post holes being dug!), and actual growing stuff. We planted strawberries. And pansies, snapdragons, alyssum, some pretty pink flower I don't know the name of, geraniums, columbine (GORGEOUS!), lavender, thyme, marjoram...and...

FRUIT TREES! Yay!

We planted a semi-dwarf nectarine and a semi-dwarf apricot in our backyard this morning (before it began to pour).

We totally rock. (Hee hee.)

Speaking of rocks, it's odd how satisfying I find picking up buckets and buckets of rocks. I don't love doing it, but somehow I do love doing it. It's so great to get the tons and tons and tons of boring alluvial plain cobbles out of my yard, my garden, my flower beds. And I truly enjoy dumping them on the side of our shed (between the fence and the shed wall--lots of weeds grow back there, but we're smothering them with four to eight inches of ROCK, and it's totally working and makes me very happy indeed).

I know that a lot of the reason I like picking up rocks is because it reminds me of childhood. In both houses, no less. And there's a lot of joy in those memories, despite the whining I am positive I did whenever it had to be done. Whenever I work outside, I think of Daddy. I miss him so much, but I feel very close to him whenever I'm working outside. I'm grateful that despite his crazy schedule, and his not-as-green-as-his-father's-thumbs, he worked hard to teach us the basics of working outside. Of getting stuff done. Of doing it cheerfully.

I love you so much, Daddy. I miss you, but I'm glad you left us with so many wonderful memories. Happy Memorial Day.