After using his toy lawn mower, Connor planted a flower and then decided it needed to hear a love song in order to grow. He likes to sing with one hand in the air and one hand over his heart, for some reason.
He thoroughly watered the plants and ripped off the leaves he deemed imperfect from the rose bush at the end of our deck. (If our landlord is reading this, don't worry, I put a stop to that fairly quickly.)
Eric hasn't been bagging our yard clippings - hence the carpet of daisies that spring up across the yard a few days after each mow. Every week there are more, so we expect at some point the yard will be ALL daisies - except where Connor conscientiously picks them for my bouquets.
Cheers, Linda
No comments:
Post a Comment