Winter's like, "I'm cold," and Summer's like, "I'm hot," and Fall is like, "I'm perfect." Spring is the rebel of the family, the one who refuses to be labeled. Spring's like, "Hey, check out my flowers, aren't I pretty?" but she'll turn on you in a heartbeat, and show off her bag o' tricks.
One day, it's sunny and 80 and everyone breaks out the flip flops. The next, there's a frost warning threatening the strawberry crops. And then today, Spring had a tantrum. Warm and muggy air, hail, rain, and glorious sun all within 30 minutes. Here's a look at my gutter this afternoon:
My back patio was also temporarily flooded during a downpour, sending dirt from the shrub area all over the cement and brick. My poor, newly planted weeping willow was really quite thrashed; thank goodness for the supports that held her up.
And the hail did its best to beat down the freshly planted petunias, but I think they survived pretty well.
I must mention that all the landscaping improvements were courtesy of my dad, who came over on Thursday to mow my lawn. It was, shall we say, a tad on the overgrown side. I'd never mowed a lawn before, and he was going to show me, but then before we knew it, it was time for the housewarming party, and the lawn was still unmown. So he offered to do it for me, because he's such a great dad.
He also planted the tree and petunias, as well as installing an adorable little solar light. He's the best!
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