Since we first talked about buying a house I've been excited about the idea of starting a garden. Never mind that I know absolutely nothing about gardening. Or that I consistently kill the flowers I buy for our dining room table at Publix. It's not like flower gardens are hard or anything.
The yard of our house was in terrible shape when we bought it. Our neighbors all have beautiful, large blossoming bushes like something from a storybook. Maybe one called "The Secret Garden" or something.
Our bushes looked like this:
Also? Our bushes were home to a family of wasps, which we learned as we were in the process of digging up said bushes. We also learned that the wasps? They didn't appreciate that. And the neighbor kids? They learned a new word when one of the wasps came after me for revenge. Sorry neighbors.
But after hours and hours of hard work and sunburn, I'm happy to say that our new flower garden is a total success. Sure it was a lot more work than I anticipated and I was assaulted by stinging insects. And yes I am covered in a thick layer of aloe vera but this was totally worth it. Look how pretty our new garden is:
Oh wait. That's just how it looks in my head.
What it actually looks like is this:
I think this is what my husband means when he talks about me having "unrealistic expectations."
