But I forgot one little fact.
Maintenance. That stinking maintenance.
Danny Dearest has been outside for hours working on the pump. He has wrestled that pump, checked the internet, and made two trips to the "pool guy". I have done my part to help. I put on my swimming attire, grabbed my new inner tube, and stood dramatically by the pool. Just to give him a little sense of the importance of him completing this maintenance in a timely manner. He didn't seem to appreciate my assistance. Go figure.
So, since swimming was out of the question, I decided to check on my suburban farm. First, my herb garden. The basil was here when we moved in. It was about dead but after some water and tender loving care it has come back.
Even before we had any household goods delivered, I had been to Wal-mart and picked up some tomato plants and one green pepper plant. For that spaghetti sauce, you know.
And if you look very carefully at the heirloom tomato plant you will see...
And then I thought these plants looked lonely so I put these in.
And sweeping around the backyard you will find...
So why I am growing squash? Because I am a Kentucky girl and Kentucky girls grow tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash. That's why.
Danny is back from another visit to the "pool guy" and a part has been ordered for the pump. And apparently our pump is old. Very old. Like floppy disc old. This could be a problem.
But we decided to keep the old pump around as long as it keeps working. Sort of how I feel about Danny Dearest.