Shrubs

The other night, my darling husband and I were in bed....reading.

Seriously, this is what we do in bed, when we're not sleeping or attempting to create grandchildren for the benefit of our mothers.

"Kev, I'm going to Watson's tomorrow to buy shrubs for the empty patch of ugly dirt in front of our house."

"Can we afford it?"

"Of course, my sweet man. And even if we couldn't, it's ugly as sin on a stick and needs beautifying. If it's empty, I'll just have to weed it all winter."

"Well, weeding is your job."

"Would you like to die peacefully in your sleep? I can make that happen for you."

But I bought a lot of shrubs, including one that's really a tree. Tomorrow I will list them out for you and describe in detail my shopping experience, using a rototiller, then making a quick detour for the husband to fix the sewer line we ran over with said rototiller. And I dug all the holes by myself, including the big one for the tree. I'm so pleased, it looks amazing. And Kevin got home from the theater, gave me a big hug and thanked me for all my hard work. I suppose it's one of the compromises of marriage. I do the work, but then it's all done MY WAY. Since I have a strong preference for MY WAY, and Kevin isn't as interested in landscape planning, I do it MY WAY and Kevin stays out of MY WAY. Unless there is a big hole to be dug.