veggie patch

Yard work seems to be contagious. Last Monday, my Dad and I planted a little garden in the backyard. It was about 50 degrees and rainy; it was also my 26th birthday, and for some strange reason I had the song "Peggy Sue" by Buddy Holly stuck in my head all day. I wore my mud boots and Dad wore this ridiculous getup: Lowe's bags tied around his ankles, and a garbage-bag-diaper-shorts-protector.
















(The birth of a garden: from August, to November, to May.)

these are my people

daddy does yard work

The whole family arrived yesterday evening. After eight long hours of driving, Dad was the first one asleep last night, and the first one awake this morning. And because he can't sit still for even 10 minutes, here's how he is passing the time...