Let me start off this post by saying that I have, in fact, been blogging the days away, but they are all in the private, unpublished areas of the interwebs that keep the deepest of my thoughts in vessels that only the hubby & kids will ever see, because, let's face it, you don't want to know exactly what I (and probably every parent that has experienced child loss), REALLY thought about that superbowl ad, right?
And my sweet neighbor, sick with the flu, called to ask if I was okay, because there had been no such blogging goin on, and, let's face it, the sweet ladies across the street are always thee ones that call the cops who discover the body of the lady that lay dead (in the house that Jack built), so it was more out of duty than anything else, I'm sure. ;)
Last weekend, Valentine's weekend, it was fab-u-lous weather. It was that kind of day that gets sandwhiched in between the endless days of blah and cold, and you just know God put a tag on the sunrise that morning saying "Happy Valentine's Day, Love, Big Poppa", and we all raise our hands in Hallelujah chorus that, number one, it wasn't *just* a Hallmark holiday, because, duh, God. And secondly, it was going to be WAAAARRRRRM!
And Ems had spent the morning with us at the basketball game and then sped off to a cheer competition with one of the besties, so I was left with two lovely men and the day that God hath made. We decided that this day was going to be the perfect day for a picnic lunch and a little bitta playtime at the park. We were in separate cars (why were we in separate cars?!), so it made it easier to send the men off to Chik-fil-a while indulged in Taco Bell, since we were on that side of town - and we are never on that side of town! (Note to Taco Bell - the west siiiiiiiiide needs you!!)
So we met up, these handsome fellows and I - at the park, and ate our fast. greasy foods and the strawberry starburst icees that I proudly presented them with as if they were holy grails, and then I decided.
The kids have been asking for a trampoline for probably forever and 3 months. I'm just about the last person who would ever have one at their house. Death trap!! Limb breaker! Spine snapper! No, No, NO!
A friend of mine whose husband is a bone guy swears that trampolines pay their salary. And that sealed the deal.
But this glorious day - and the fact that they had asked TWO neighbors if they could pleeeeeease jump on their trampolines (to which both said they were deteriorating and ripped, which happens when your kids finally leave for college), and the fact that a discount store in town had one for a reaaaallllly good price - had me cringing when I finally told hubby that yeah, maybe we should get them a trampoline.
(and lemmie tell you - the look on his face....)
I am still not comfortable with it. I still don't like it. I still stand there, face pressed against the glass door, watching and waiting for the snap of a leg, but it's one of those things that, in all fairness, is good for them, even if it takes them (WAAAAY) outside the safety bubble of momma. But, I do it, not because I like to, but because it lets them stretch those little wet wings a little further. (Let's all take a moment and remember the 4-wheeler...)
So, there it was, The purchase of the century, another 14 grey hairs, and a semi- permanent red mark on my face from the cold glass door.
(I'll pause here as you clap)
So, we lug the trampoline boxes home, and the boys work together to get them to the back yard.
Meanwhile, I lug all my garden stuff back to the soon-to-be garden. We had moved it from last year's spot because there was still a bit too much shade in the evenings.
Evan & I had gone out and measured and mapped out a GREAT raised-bed garden plan, but when we got to the store to buy the lumber, we hung our heads and headed home. Because, WOW, was lumber expensive.
|New garden plot|
I had enough treated lumber in my scrap pile to build the small center bed that was actually "Evan's Garden", so we decided that for now, we could plant the cold weather crops there, and work on raising the money for the other beds later.
As the guys put together the death trap-o-line, I chopped and nailed and drilled and completed the frame for Evan's garden.
|And angels sang in the glory|
By the time the garden was finished (WHY do I not have pictures of this??), the sun was starting to slowly go deeper in the sky and the cold was making its way back - FAST. I didn't actually plant the plants in the dirt, I just sat them in their containers and covered them with a clear tote, hoping they'd make it through the cold night.
I helped the boys finish up the trampoline by sewing the net on, and it was dark when it was finally complete.
Two days later, God delivered some more fantastic weather.
And it led to this adorable little guy in coveralls, saying "Hey! I look like Grandad!"
|(I'd love to see my dad in those socks, though)|
The kids jumped away on the snowy trampoline while I checked on the crops in their ghetto greenhouse.
|Can it look any more like a morgue?!?|
They seemed okay, but I wasn't willing to lift the box and release whatever warmth was inside.
Now, 2 weeks later, the poor things are STILL in there, hopefully still alive, and the snow has melted, so perhaps today is the day they will make it into the ground!
Evan's choice of crops: Lettuce & Broccoli