I hope it's OK to admit that I don't really have a soft spot in my heart for hard, physical labor. It's hard. My muscles are weak and I am wimpy. David is a pro at physical labor. Seriously, you could ask that guy to hand-dig a basement for your house and he'd give you a perfectly square, basement-sized hole in the ground in about an hour flat. He is a work horse like you wouldn't believe, and I think he would make an excellent farm hand. And not one of those creepy dirty ones. One of the handsome ones. Yep.
I've been wanting some raised beds for vegetables for awhile now (like years) so I could have more gardening space. In the city you have to get creative on where you find room to grow things, so we decided to utilize the area in our front yard that is hot and sunny and the grass won't stay alive to save my life. Perfect place to spend hours digging up the grass and digging holes and adding the beautiful vegetable boxes that David built this morning.
David and Becca, digging. Actually Becca is digging and David appears to be evaluating something.
We dug out all that grass. Blech.
Daphne didn't have to work. Something about she's small and cute with soft hands. She got to play in her new pool, which she was actually scared of for quite awhile until she decided that two inches of warm water were in fact nothing to be afraid of.
Her babysitters walked her to the corner to meet the ice cream man. Her babysitters also fed her fruit snacks and french fries. I've lost all control.
Our garden boxes aren't quite finished yet, but I am so excited on how lovely they are. I am not excited about the blisters on my hand or the world's worst tan lines on my back.