It's spring break here in our parts. ..
so we've spent the last few days in our yard enjoying the gorgeous 16 Celsius weather.
He's been doing the back "breaking" part and I've been doing the feeding and documenting part of the task at hand.
He seems to be making a point to the lawn.
Rather displeased with last years performance he's scratching the living daylights out of the early spring blades that had the nerve to push through the moss.
If they think that's rough treatment. . .they should see what he has in mind for their next lawn style "spa treatment".
The fence guys have come back. . .
and are back at it. .
working hard at keeping pace with the "mature" person on the lawn.
The beautiful snow crested mountains in the background are a constant reminder that we live in the Fraser Valley. It's usually this time of year when the locals begin to wonder about the snow pack up in those mountains and the Fraser River that runs through the valley.
In 1948, eleven years before I was born. . .
flood waters rose to the middle of the bedroom window that eventually belonged to me.
My parents reminded us each year of the strawberry plants that died underneath the sandy silt of the Fraser River flood.