The Spouse has a bit more of an artist in him than I think he gives himself credit for. This artistry comes out not only in his voice, but in some of the interesting ways he works with our unusual backyard. (For those of you who are uninformed, his singing ability earned him the nickname "Sexy [The Spouse]" in college.) Given the high prices of fresh produce and dining out, we are desperately longing for a successful garden. We want a garden so badly that he is willing to dig out the top of a giant rock to place one, and he is working on creating a terraced garden for the second year in a row. It's a good thing he has the skills and willingness to work in the yard, as his semi-recurring reluctance to pick up dishes and place them in the sink can be infuriating.
While The Spouse is busy swinging a crowbar about on the top of our hill like an enraged Yeti, I'm down below in the yard, under a tree (where it's safe), spreading mulch around. I first stumbled across the therapeutic benefits of mulch-spreading last spring, when I was in the throes of finishing my Master's Capstone Portfolio and needed to do something that didn't involve sitting at a desk or driving somewhere. This year, I've emptied a few bags of red mulch under our pine in the backyard, and some less-red red mulch in our backyard beds around our flowers and ground cover. I love how it looks, and I think we are extraordinarily blessed that the landscaping in this yard maintains itself with so little of our effort. I'm so grateful for the fact that we have such a beautiful patch of land on which to enjoy our springs and summers.
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