The Husband and I finished and installed a fun project on Friday. Some of you may remember I talked about the work-in-progress fence project last Sunday. Amazingly it only took us six days from creating the first fence panel to the installation of seven panels weaved with branches from the backyard trees. That's a short time, considering who we are. It was lots of fun working with the Husband on it. He agreed. We love the final result. We don't know about the neighbors, who I hope simply think of us as those old hippies doing their thing. Hmmm. Maybe that's not a good idea. The Daddy warned me not to end up being a hippie, which to this day I have no idea what he considered made up a hippie. I can only hope I did not disappoint him. lol This morning the Husband showed me how to tie Boy Scout knots. One knot reminded me of the stitch the Mama taught me for hemming. Another knot had me thinking of knitting, and still another of crochet. I didn't do so well re

Until yesterday, that is what the Husband, Molly the Cat, and I saw when we looked out the patio door. Sitting behind the shed was a small chicken coop. Molly loved to climb up the chicken coop, along a plank, and onto the shed's southern eaves to take her nap between breakfast and lunch. For the past year,  the Husband and I have talked about taking down the structures because they were useless. No chickens for the coop (never were!) and if we did have chickens I would rather see them strutting freely (kind of) around the yard. As for the shed, only hobbits would be short enough to stand in it. If, even then. So, why was it built? I don't know, and I don't care to speculate about how it came to be built. When I heard a crow and saw a butterfly as we dismantled the structures, I knew that the Mama liked our decision. It felt good swinging the hammer and being constructively destructive. Pound! Pound! Grunt! Pound! GRUNT! Pound! Pound! The most physical activity

I forgot to buy a 2015 calendar for the Mama. I had planned to make her one again, but I thought about it too late to have it be delivered by the new year. I figured I'd print out the dates and attach the page to last year's calendar. On Sunday, I did that. The Mama thought it was a new calendar.  Hmmmmm.

The Husband and I stood in line at the big-box home improvement store. As we waited our turn, I watched the busy movement around us. All the lines were long, a given for a Saturday,  I suppose. Men and women pushed their carts forward in line, all heaped with lumber, sacks of soil, cans of paint, plumbing fixtures, and other large and bulky items for their DIY projects.  Finally, it was our turn. The Husband placed his items on the counter—a tiny light bulb and two drawer knobs. The transaction was quick. As the cashier handed a tiny bag to the Husband, he said, "Enjoy your project." The Husband still cracks up when he recalls that moment. I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, click here . See you tomorrow. 

I got my front door key stuck in the lock yesterday. I unscrewed the lock from the door last night. That oil you use for sewing machines? I put a bit of that into the lock last night. Nothing. "Did you fix it?" asked the Mama. "Did you get the key out?" asked the husband. No. No. In case you're pondering why the husband wasn't involved in figuring out how to remove the key from the lock, it's because I was bogeying the lock and he was washing dishes. I had handed it to him before he started the dishes. I needed him to use brute strength to jiggle out the key. He had success last week when his key got stuck in that same lock. But no such luck this time. How did I get the key stuck in the first place? "You used the wrong key," the Mama declared. "Did you use the wrong key?" asked the husband. Think, remember, recall. Yeah, I did. I left the lock, with the key stuck in it, on the stairway stoop. I was very confident the house ghosties wo