Why is it that when it's my turn to blog, I can't think of anything interesting to write about?
I have plenty of ideas for fiction projects. Blog posts? Not so much. So I'm going to bore everyone to death and talk about yard work.
We've been doing a lot of yard work over the past few weeks. (Hubby really started in March--he drastically pruned an overgrown maple tree, rebuilt a retaining wall, and re-seeded two areas of lawn.) We had three tons of rocks delivered and hubby built a stone wall at the top of the hill in the backyard. It's like a small version of the walls they have all over the Gettysburg battlefield. I should be fair and say that my contribution to the wall building was bringing hubby an occasional glass of water or an ice cold beer. The rocks were too heavy for me.
Two days later, we had seven yards of shredded bark mulch delivered and dumped at the bottom of the driveway. In case you don't know, a yard is 27 cubic feet. One yard will fill approximately nine wheelbarrows. Seven yards is a pile about five feet high and about ten to twelve feet in diameter. It's big. We have a lot of beds to mulch, and they look really nice now.
Needless to say, I'm not getting much writing done.
The good news is the yard is almost in shape with plenty of time to sit and enjoy it.