And the Mud Recedeth

It's starting to dry out.  My front yard looks less like a pigsty and more like a freshly-plowed field.  My beloved claims he is going to finish the rest of the "hard work" on Saturday so that all I have to do is replant some hostas and spread some grass seed.  We finally broke down and called a real rock place to have one ton of little, itsy-bitsy rocks delivered to us on Friday instead of getting robbed by buying bags of it at Sutherland's.  I will be very relieved when the Great Wall Project of '05 (doesn't it make you feel pioneering to use the abbreviations in the new millenium?) is over. 

As we surveyed the wall last night, my beloved spoke softly.  "We're never, ever doing something like that again," he said.

Amen.