Yardage

When I was about 6 years old, my Dad decided to re-sod our yard. I remember this being introduced as a fun family project. My older brothers were so excited, and anything they thought was cool and fun I thought was gospel.

I remember the huge slabs (I know, I know, but I don't know what else to call them) of dirt and grass in my dad's truck, and my brothers and I carting these things all around the yard. My brothers? They had a blast. For the first 15 minutes anyway. I, on the other hand, did not. It was hot, those things were heavier than bricks, they itched my arms, and it was this ridiculously complicated process of sand, dirt, grass, and layering. I'm sorry, but to a 6 year old girl, this was not her definition of fun. By the way, we lived in Texas. Did I mention it was hot? I was sooooo frustrated. This was not as much fun as it was suppose to be.

I share this story because I believe it was at this point in my life I made my opinion about yard work. If you think it's fun, have all of it you can stand. I, on the other hand, chose to from that day forward be perfectly content in the kitchen glued to my Mom's side trying to mimick everything she did.

Here is another interesting fact : My Dad worked (and played) on golf courses my entire life up until he heard the calling of the mission field. Superintendent, designer, turf grass management, player, you name it... he could do it. He loved it. He was pretty smart with that stuff, too. The number of books he had about grass just killed me. Seriously, grass?? I did not get that fascination. At all.

The wonderful man I married? Somewhat of a mirror image. Worked on golf courses (pro golf management, if I am remembering correctly), and can spout off weeds and diseases and types of grass like his ABC's. He has those crazy books, too. And he does all that field stuff at the Titans stadium... Grass galore.

Why didn't I see the signs?????

Fast forward about 20 years.

We have a house. We have a yard. What does my wonderful husband want to do in all of his spare time?

You guessed it. (Bad taste in my mouth here) Yard work.

Now, while I am praising the heavens that he didn't come home one day and announce that he wanted to re-sod our yard, he has come home with seed, fertilizer, spreaders, sprays, dirt, plants......

Ok, so we want to spend free time together. Do stuff around the house, hang out, that kind of thing. Well, he's out in the yard.

Well, if you can't beat them... uuuuggghhh....

One day I last week I decided to get adventurous. Join in the fun, y'know?

I was going to do some yard work with Benj.

I was going to put the past behind me. Try something new. Get my hands dirty. Suck it up.

Ok.

I'll scale it back. I was going to plant something. In a pot.

In a small pot.

I am very proud of those new flowers in my pots by our front door. To me, it is a step forward. A big accomplishment. I was probably a little overly-excited, but that's ok.

I love flowers. Don't get me wrong. I love a beautiful yard. I think it makes a home. I just don't want to do the outdoor decorating.

While I potted a few flowers, Ben continued to work on our new flower garden:

Complete with hydrangeas, roses, and other things which names escape me. (this pic was from a few months ago. They are all in the ground and starting to bloom now). And in another corner of the yard he planted a Chinese Snowball tree. I cannot wait to see that one take off!

So, now I have taken the next step and bought seeds to go in our front flowerbeds. That is my next feat. I'll keep you posted.

But moving on, about that husband-

So he re-seeded, fertilized, and nurtured his gardening heart out the past 2 weeks.

I should not have been surprised when I pulled up to the house yesterday and saw this:

Oh, don't worry- we have stripes in the front, too:

Pretty cool huh?

Titans field? Puhleeez. They ain't got nuthin' on the White yard.