I said to my daughter this morning coming into the house, and she agreed, laughing. While she was sitting on the sofa eating breakfast she too had heard DH and my helper arguing about who would be in charge of the heavily laden wheelbarrow which had to go down the steep road to the garden for the day's work. My phrase meant, "Two men, two rams", and referred to this typically male search for glory; in this case, who would have the honor of the hardest task, the dirtiest job. This attitude is why I like DH and my helper, not to mention quite a few other guys I've known: there are plenty of them around. My helper is approaching retirement age, is a tumor survivor (and smoker), but he works with energy, conviction, and good humor; DH is likewise a great worker, though he reached retirement age years ago and is now shooting for immortality. My helper and I spent the morning digging up roses that were doing poorly, so that they could spend some time in pots recovering before being returned to the garden in better prepared holes. He dug, I labeled and sheared the thick, tall grass, and I hope some of these roses will have better futures for all this. DH was helping with the day's task, and working on a plan of his own to contain some of our ramblers, which aren't rampant yet but show promise of becoming so. It's a most beautiful day, sunny, mildly warm, with the vegetation in its fullest spring glory. A good morning in every way.
noseometer...(7A, SZ10, Albuquerque)