What is the secret to my rugged, masculine yard?
I will tell you: I water my lawn with puddles of my masculine sweat.
I first realized that was the secret of my success when a beautiful patch of flowers sprung up in an area where I had ripped out a hundred foot oak with my bare hands.
Sure, ripping out trees is mildly straining, but to see the grass grow green, the roses blooming, the piles of dirt turning into small rabbits makes it all worthwhile.
7 comments:
whoa.
MAGGIE IS THE LANDSCAPER! SHE'S THE GRASS MOWING GODDESS! you've been outed.
The piles of dirt from MY yard turn into golden horses that I ride to the bank where the bankers melt down said horses and turn them into gold bullion (sp?) that I take home and keep under my mattress.
But rabbits are cute.
PS I love when I guest blog but I don't even know when I'm doing it!
MY dirt, namely, the small patch of bare earth outside my ghetto apartment, resounds with the unearthly sound of unicorn giggles and faerie farts. so whatev, homeowners.
You have such large hands! Tell Blue (your ox) hello.
m,
Sometimes, I think you are the only one who understands me.
Or reads the captions on my pics anyway.
j.
Wow, I'd been away from your blog for so long I forgot how good you were. :) Send me some of that rabbit-producing dirt sometime, eh?
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