Good intentions

I swear I intended to post earlier today. I really did. Cross my heart. 

It was going to be a wonderful little piece about my reconnaissance visit to our new plot at the community garden. How the Professor and I discovered what the previous renter planted. How we walked around Westmoor Park and listened to the tree frogs as the sun slowly hovered on the horizon.

It was going to be a good little post.

But I instead went up to Massachusetts to help my father-in-law de-nail (technical term?) lumber. And my hands are now raw and pained as I type. The back of my neck is crisp. My eyelids are heavy. My eyeballs sting.

I swear some of the boards I was pulling nails from had been used for crucifixions centuries ago. The nails looked older than time.

So, in lieu of a nice post about discovering our new garden space, I will leave you with this picture. It isn't much to look at, but I hope it becomes something nice over the next few months: