As soon as my mom drove off with my kids, I turned to walk back into the house and Keith stopped me and said, "hey, why don't you go change and come back out and help me finish up out here?" Oh, yard work. Yes. As soon as my mom leaves with two of my children (the other is already gone), that's exactly what I want to do. Yard work. In this heat.

See, yard work isn't really my thing. It isn't so much because I'm lazy (although, that doesn't really help), it's just, I don't know, not for me. I don't have the knack! I'd love to. I mean, a garden is something I've always wanted to do, but I never get around to doing it. I just don't have what it takes to garden. I get too stressed about the where, and what order, and which plants and stupid stuff, that I never get around to actually doing it. Sucks, but, I've come to accept it.

I walked back out and said, "why don't we just stop for the day. It's 4:30, we can just go get ready and take the boat out, get something to eat" See, that's my way of thinking. Keith said, "stop? now? We're only half an hour away from being done! Why would we stop." ugh. I should have known better. But unfortunately Keith's half hour is the real person's one hour. "one more minute" is more like half an hour.

But Keith loves this stuff. He'll say he hates yard work, and maybe he does, but he loves to make things look nice. He loves to finish what he starts. I do too, I just don't.

Oh well. Yard looks good now. I can say I did my teeny tiny part and hope he never asks again. Or at least not for a long time