This morning it was there.
By afternoon it was bare.
Much like the dandelion field, that
blob of foliage
garden stood in the path of progress. We saved the rocks. And the hosta. We have plans for them elsewhere. The rest we neatly bundled for curbside pickup.
Wendy excavated an assortment of oddities buried in the dirt, among which was a four foot tall iron mailbox post, a beach ball, a handful of old school pull tabs, two croquet balls, a hammer, a green & white glass marble, and a seemingly endless coil of fat rope that resembled an enormous earthworm as she tug-tug-tugged it out of the soil.
An ancient shrine to suburban living? Usually ghosts from the past have something more interesting to say. The marble is pretty.
The next few weeks will be all about the yard. We'll be digging holes, moving some plants, eliminating others, spreading dirt, weeding and feeding, growing grass. Can you feel the excitement? I'm all aquiver.
Meanwhile after today's labor, Wendy is on the couch with her knee iced and I just swallowed three Aleve.
No pain, no gain. Repeat three times, have another beer and call me in the morning. That's good advice on any given day.