Ten minutes to seven in the morning...
Here was my backyard. Still and quiet.
The footprint of our former deck still stood.
And then some loud machine sounds...
A truck thundered up the street.
My baby began to tremble when she saw the dirt being moved.
Morgan just stared.
It was about this time that I wished for the world that my nephews were here to grunt and hoorah about the dirt mover.
Girls just don't get it.
Including me.
At 11am, the patio was nearly framed and the footers were being dug...
If the building of this patio was labor and delivery, this stage would be the cramps before the epidural kicked in. We eagerly await its arrival.
