I spent this weekend doing the Devil's work.

Yard work, that is.

There should be a sign on my mailbox that reads "Abandon all hope, you who enter here."
I can't help but compare certain aspects of my yard and driveway to Dante's "Inferno." There's a certain element of Limbo as you approach the layers of hell, and I would say your body experiences a bit a limbo as you bounce up the driveway.

I'm sure if Dante was writing his masterpiece in 2006, a punishment of unparalleled equal would be scrubbing vinyl siding. Reserved only for those with most heinous earthly felonies. Dante also mentions something about a river of blood. That would be the bountiful crop of blackberry vines that surround you as you attempt to clean your yard. I had nightmares about those vines, like unholy velcro.

Bubba Jr. went on his first spend-the-night on Friday night. Of course I was a wreck about it. Possibly that's what drove me to attempt to drive my body into a state of complete fatigue. So that I would not think about the fact that I've spent 2,012 days making sure he's a safe as I can possible make him. Then I pass him off to someone else with a smile and a wave. And a long prayer. I had doubts that he would be able to stay all night. He's sort of a mama's boy. Through NO fault of my own. It's not like I faun over him constantly, or that I'm overly protective. It's not like I sent him to his friends house with his bike helmet. Oh wait. I did.

Anyway, he made it through the night and was severely p-o'd when I came to pick him up Saturday. No kiss, no hug, pushed me out of the way and stormed over to the car, launched his luggage in and sat in the seat glaring at me. Nice. Love you too. Later he told me he just wasn't ready to come home yet and could he please stay 3 more days? Sister's aren't as much fun as I said they'd be. Humpf!

Charleigh was great without Bubba Jr cramping her style. She yanked out all the matchbox cars, watched "Trick My Truck" with her dad and helped in the yard, Charleigh style.

Me: Come pick up this twig.

Her: Me, Charleigh?

Me: Yes, you Charleigh. Come pick up this twig. (Me pointing near me)

Her: (Bends down) This one? (hold up pine needle.)

Me: No, this twig right here by Mama.

Her: Mama?

Me: Yes, this twig right here by Mama. Come pick it up.

Her: (Bends down and picks up a 1" twig.) This one?

Me: (Goes inside to put head in oven)

Eventually she decided taking a nap was preferable to trying to figure out her demanding mother.

She has turned into quite the social butterfly. If you sat anywhere near us in Church yesterday I apologize. However, it is quite cute when she smiles and waves and says "Hello!" Even if it is 58 times. At one point she was "reading" the bulletin and noticed there's a picture of Jesus on it just like the one that is in the sanctuary. Delighted at the match, she hollars out "Mama TWO Jesus!" As she holds up three fingers.

That reminds me of a cute story I'll close with. Just before Christmas my aunt was at evil*mart with her granddaughter, MG, who is also three. In the lawn/garden area there was a rather large manger display, complete with Mary, Joseph, all the wise fellows, some animals and a manger. However, there was no baby Jesus. While my aunt waited in line to pay, MG was checking out the display. Suddenly MG shouted in joy, "Nana!! I found Jesus!" Good for her I say, good for her.

B