That is, if paradise is a mudbog outside my backdoor (and if you ask R or the dog, it is). We hired a great contractor who has the same name as my father-in-law. Those of you who know the name realize that it is a crazy coincidence - it isn't a common name at all, and we're talking first and last name. It's beyond weird. So, in addition to doing some comparative genealogy, we're getting a BIG patio on the back of the house.
The mudballs are running scared.
Today I plan to recover from a 4-day weekend without the benefit of potato chips or cookies to dull the experience. Let's not even talk about PMS without chocolate. It's a good thing Netflix delivered "Freaks and Geeks" on DVD or Saturday might have been our undoing.
I'll have pics of the patio process as soon as I get the camera battery charged. Just imagine lots of dirt added, subtracted, moved around, mounded, compacted, surrounded by 2x4's, mixed with gravel, raked, decorated with rebar - anyway, it was a funny process to watch. Ta Da! Battery charged.
Our uberneighbor helped out with his tractor and was a marvelous stand-in for K (who was at work) as the resident "foreman" on the job. I felt very well taken care of and only slightly sorry for the concrete guys. I stayed out of the way and made pizza for various kids who wandered in and out of the house during the day.
Darn pizza. How I miss you.
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