Sunday was an absolutely gorgeous day and we spent the afternoon working in the garden. I don't know what the high was, but I did see our temperature gauge at 70. I'm telling you, it was beautiful. In fact, we all put on our summer clothes and still worked up a little sweat. It felt so good.
I put Abby in the stroller so she could sit outside an watch. She took a little nap, but when she woke up, decided she'd had enough of the stroller. So, I pulled her out to sit/lay in my lap while I planted strawberry plants.
She was having a grand time, looking up at me and smiling happily.
See that chicken coming to check her out? That chicken had been busily slurping up every earthworm and grub she could find in the garden. And, well, apparently, baby toes look a little like grubs.
Poor Abby. And to make matters worse, my hands were absolutely covered with dirt. I really don't much like working with gloves. I never have. In fact, here is a little random tidbit for you. In 12th grade, we dissected a cat in our anatomy and physiology class. It took a full week to complete and after the first 20 minutes or so of sheer frustration over the gloves, I ripped those suckers off and didn't look back. I mean, hands wash...right? But right then in the garden with a mad-as-a-hornet baby, my dirty hands did make it hard to comfort her.
I did finally get Abby calmed down again. Her toe looked fine and we banished the silly chicken from the garden.
Okay. Life is good again.
In fact, I'll just take a little snooze here, mom, while you go back to work. Don't mind me.