My husband has been gone again.
Since last Sunday.
You know what they say about making an omelette.
My husband isn’t crazy about broken eggs. So when he’s gone, it’s the perfect time for me to tackle some projects that I really want to complete.
Plus, I like to surprise him.
But that was when I was young and, well… young.
With the help of lots and lots of little people.
Others managed to find a stopping place on the way to the brush pile.
And a respectable home-grown job, I thought.
And a little peanut butter for those few in my brood who like to live on the edge.
And then, the last littlest camper, no longer having to share.
It was a really good day.
The ice cream definitely helped.
Think he’ll notice?
oh, the inside…