The Secret Garage
Not as catchy as “The Secret Garden,” is it? Sunday morning I was having a very exciting dream full of intrigue and graphic violence and thrown soup packets. In the dream, the Beer Guy revealed that he had a secret garage under our house where he kept his collection of extremely expensive cars. He let me drive that one that was worth $7 million. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
That wasn’t even the most exciting thing that happened this weekend!
I chainsawed! We had a few branches break this winter and spring due to ice and wind, and I took the chainsaw out there and cut those branches down. And then, I cut down a few more. And a couple more. And then I chainsawed all the branches into manageable chunks of branch.
It was kind of amazingly fun! I want to chainsaw all the things!
Alvie and I also planted some garden stuff. We planted blueberries, strawberries, rhubarb, and asparagus in the permanent garden spaces. Then I gave him some seeds and pointed him towards one of the garden boxes we’ll probably take out after this year. Bean planted sunflowers (his favorite), peas, pumpkins, and watermelons, and then we did carrots and beets in another space. All that’s left is the peppers and tomatoes.
I also taught Alvie how to clean a bathroom (it’s going to take a lot of practice…) and we baked an apple rhubarb pie (which was delicious).
The Bean had a pretty good weekend. I always enjoy our weekends together.* You know what’s weird, though? He just keeps growing! He is such an affectionate kid and loves to crawl into my lap, but he barely fits anymore. All of the HYUGE clothes he got for his birthday fit almost perfectly (I was hoping they’d be too big so he could grow into them).
He’s pretty pleased that he’s “almost as tall” as me, even though it’s been pointed out that I’m not any kind of Amazon. But his feet! His feet are so big.
The time that he’ll fit into my lap and that I’ll be able to pick him up and carry him is definitely limited. I’m doing my best to treasure these moments (although his desire to be held and his ability to hold still are at odds with each other, which makes treasuring the snuggles very difficult) which I can still hold him and he still wants to be held.
So for now, we’ll have moments like this, where he looks at me like that while we’re showing off our crazy pizza.
*always is such a fun term when dealing with a five-year-old who never. stops. talking. ever. EVER.