and, of course, tulips.
Oh, the tulips. Lavish in their beauty, and every time we rounded another corner we found another bed stuffed with tulips.
And just in case tulips aren't your thing (is this possible? Is there a Tulip Haters Anonymous out there?), there were also certain other items of interest.
Those cardinals, the birdbath, water, everything, are made out of Lego bricks.
Those deer are made of Lego bricks.
That spider suspended above our children is made out of Lego bricks.
Are you sensing a theme here? If not, well, honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you. I have made this as obvious as possible. Also, for the sake of your Monday, please embiggen this photo and take a closer look at those children. I feel like I should probably admonish them to please let me get a nice photo every once in a while, but truth be told, these kinds of pictures are my very favorite. Polished, we are not. I am comfortable with this knowledge.
There were many other astonishing feats of Lego art we admired, but I'm tired of talking about Legos. Let's get back to tulips.
If I can remember come fall, I'd like to try and get my hands on some of these Budlight tulips. There has to be a reason they have that name, right? Was the person who developed this particular type of tulip a big beer drinker? Does anyone else besides me care?
Tomorrow, let's look at my tulips (you just can't wait, right?!) and maybe someone will be able to tell me what to do with the Dead Zone, aka that patch of our yard where good plants go to die. I swear I can almost hear them screaming for mercy when I plant them there, like a cartoon shoe facing The Dip. I need help. With gardening, not psychiatric or otherwise. I realize parts of this paragraph may have convinced you otherwise, though.