Child Labor & Truckin'

A four year-old child comes in so handy when you have literally a ton of mulch to shovel. This was a very productive weekend at the Casa, which always makes my heart sing. The Young Man and I had some wonderful time together shoveling out this load of mulch for the garden, and I kid-you-not, I would have been hard-pressed to do all of this work by my own self. He has graduated to the stage of "actually helpful", and I am ready. Of course, if I asked him to distribute said mulch in appropriate areas, I would have it all through the lawn, and very little on the gardens. But in the spirit of greater familial harmony, I am trying to work more with his (and is father's) strengths, and to be honest (even as a reforming perfectionist), it isn't that hard. He was in his glory and his muck boots, and what can be a better combination?

I was in my own state of glory earlier that morning, tooling around town in my grandpa's borrowed pick-up and one of our dogs. I was so surprised ... I love driving this truck. It has a massive engine, no radio, and a deep, hearty growl. I could drive this every weekend and be happy, which was unexpected given an avowed fondness (but no budget) for European sports cars. So I took the trash to the transfer station, and then procured the mulch, all the while patting my dog and letting my arm hang out the window. Although the truck can go over 55 mph, why bother? All of a sudden I was Sunday driving on a Saturday, enjoying the view at 40 mph. Real women drive trucks, indeed.