Gettin’ Dirty

Yesterday, the husband worked at digging up the small trees rooted in our flowerbeds. I sat on the porch and watched and kept him supplied with ice water.

At one point, he stopped digging, leaned on his shovel, and said, “You know, for the first time in our lives, we’re living out the divine prediction for male-female roles after the Fall.”

I cocked my head. “You mean, I’m pregnant and uncomfortable, and you’re out here toiling in the soil?”

“Yup.”

I grinned and nodded at the hole he’d dug. “How’s the toiling part workin’ out for ya?”

He grinned back. “I hate it.”

I laughed.

This Is Named “Rose,” Mr. Shakespeare

As many of you already know,
the husband and I recently moved into a cozy  
 

 
 

  

  

 
At the front of this  
  

  

  

 are several

 s.
 

  

  

  

 
And in one of these 
 

 s, to my utter delight and surprise,  

  

 
I have discovered a  

  

 

 It’s really nice to see such a beautiful little life flourishing in spite of the drought.

I am thankful. : )
 

  

  

 
P.S. Please forgive the iPhone photo washed-out-edness of the rose photo, as well as the unsightly purple in the house photo. We don’t really live in an encroaching purple fog; that was just my iPhone cover slipping inconveniently about. *sigh*