(WO)MAN WITH A PLAN

I've lived in this house long enough that I've developed a rather nasty habit of imagining, vividly, what I would do with it if I weren't a mere renter but, in fact, owned the property. Most noted of these daydreams has been to cut back (or down entirely) the invading bushes that separate our back porch (it's really more like an awning with steps) from the sidewalk on the south side of the house and "pave" a walkway out of the bricks we tore up from the NORTH side of the house last summer. The current walkway, if you can really call it that, is just pieces of broken up concrete that don't actually cover the whole path.

Only problem with my brilliant plan! I don't have time for yardwork.

Yesterday, upon returning from YET ANOTHER pointless design class, I'm told to go look at the back yard. I assumed Katie just made another feeble attempt to cut back the growth that's consuming what once MIGHT have been a fence and, walking into the kitchen, I expected to see a barely noticable dent in the green wall of death.

It's a dent alright. She cut both of the bushes DOWN. They are mere stumbs where once fierce green tentacles of hate had stood. I would have been thrilled at that sight alone, and then... I see it. Chris, Katie's best friend, kneeling where the broken concrete once dug its ugly tooth into the earth, PAVING MY WALKWAY!! WITHOUT BEING ASKED (by me)!! DESPITE THE RAIN!!

I have NEVER been more excited by yard work and I announced to everyone present that if Chris was my husband, we would totally be having sex in the back yard RIGHT THAT MINUTE, MUDDY HANDS BE DAMNED.