A couple nights ago, Kris announced he was going to start cleaning up the yard, starting with the front yard, and moving to the back (because the neighbors can't really see the backyard when they drive by).

I immediately resisted. I have plans! I have goals! I have a beautiful vision of the glory of the front yard! I can't have him mucking about in the front yard, working against the shining light of my front yard dream.

Or something like that.

In reality, I pouted.

Why do you want to change the front yard? Just leave it for me, I'll fix it. When I'm home. Next month.

No, he couldn't do that. He was embarrassed at all the weeds growing in the front yard. He wanted to clean it up, make it look good.

"The weeds are green! It's like free grass!"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Uh... yeah... Yes, yes, I am."

So, we agreed he could clean out the various parts of the front yard, removing parts I was planning on removing anyway. I reluctantly agreed to allow him to give me a push on the way to the glorious new front yard, full of blueberries, and marigolds, and trees, Trees, TREES!

The next night, he threw out his back.

He did it working out, away from me. I wasn't at class that night. He stepped funny and tweaked his back. The next day it was worse.

This morning, he couldn't put his shoes on without help.

Coincidence, sure. Now he can't work on the front yard when I'm gone for the weekend.

But, part of me can't help but wonder if in some way, he threw out his back so that I'd win.

He loves me that much.

vox.com is shutting down. This is a post from Vicki's vox.

What did you dream about last night?

I dreamt that we were traveling to China - Eric, me, and the 3 kids, although they were all teenagers. The plane was leaving at 2:22 am and we didn't get out of bed until ~ 1:30. There was about a cup of milk left in the refrigerator. Chris drank that and Kitt and BJ were putting small items in their bags. Like one pair of underwear! Everyone was moving in very slow motion and I remember remarking that if we didn't get going we were going to miss the flight (!!!). Then someone checked to see if the flight was delayed. It was! And that's when I woke up.

I wonder how that trip turned out! :)

As we walked into class this morning, we were greeted by a Master Gardener with a bag of colored papers. In a valiant effort to encourage us to sit at different tables and meet classmates outside our mentor groups, we drew a color from the bag and found the matching color on a table in the room. Essentially, we were randomly assigned a new table and new classmates to sit with.

The effect was quite entertaining.

Most everyone who didn't quite understand the goal of the random seat assignment, complained. "Why can't I sit with my mentor group?" they whined.

Personally, I enjoyed meeting new people. Community was one of two reasons I started taking the classes in the first place. Without the other people, that community would be pretty darn small.

I hate falling behind in my writing. I don't like when I'm so overwhelmed with work and life and stuff and crap and minutiae of stupid things placed on my to-do list then forgotten or made unimportant by time.

It's worse when I have all the posts written, because I'm writing, and don't have the five minutes to post them. Or need the images to go with them, and those are so much more cumbersome to upload and post and integrate.

Piled onto all of this are some thankfully life-changing events, some changes that needed to happen. Some of them are frightening, some are happy, and some are just late.

And then, there are the websites I've happened along, and started reading much more than I should be.

Take, for example, Deeply Shallow. I've been reading about Jason's life in Southern California for the last few months, but somehow, hell if I know how, his life dovetailed into a parallel place, and I ended up starting at the beginning (of the current phase of his life, anyway). It's interesting to learn, once again, incredible details of someone's life, told in an interesting, passionate and, well, painfully real way. I wonder if people reading here think of me the way I think of Jason. He's much more open about his stories than I am, though, eh, that should change soon.

We'll see. This would be entertaining, if I weren't so distracted and not posting regularly. Well, for the anonymous reader, anyway.

Mike called work today. He was off at a client's, and wanted to know how we were doing, was Doyle busy, etc.

"Doyle's working like a mad man," I responded. "He's working so furiously his hands are a blur and I can't get a word in edgewise. He'll be done with all of his work, and ours, by the end of the day."

Silence.

"Uh... This I gotta see."

So, here you go, Mike: