What a Difference Some Wood Makes

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that title is reflective of the fact that Mr. W is home for 10 days. And that I'm quite certain my stress level is going to drop significantly. You totally want to make a dirty joke about "wood" right now, don't you?

Get your mind out of the groin gutter, people.

The reason I'm talking about wood is because last weekend my darling sister and I laid a whole lotta cubic feet of wood chips along the front of the house in Santa Ynez.

A week or two prior, my wonderful parents went up to the house and pulled up just about every weed and mischievous piece of grass growing in the front yard. When they were finished, the entryway looked like this:

Still some dead grass. And although the clear dirt looked better than the weedfest, it still wasn't ideal. So I asked Mr. W if I could sprinkle it with some cedar chips.

He told me that according to his measurements, I would need to buy 8 bags of chips.

So I bought 6.

My sister told me to lie to him and say that he mismeasured. (Life lessons from the wife of 20+ years....) But the funny thing was that we ended up needing 10 bags anyway, so both Mr. W and I were wrong.

I'm quite pleased with how it looks now:

I'm sure the neighbors appreciate that it's slightly less ghetto out there too. Now that Mr. W is home for a bit, we'll likely make even more progress up at the new house. Maybe paint the back door that is still a garish red color. Probably do some more yard work. And definitely tackle more ferrying of possessions from Hollywood to wine country.

Now excuse me while I go get my hands on some other wood.... Thankyouandgoodnight.