I worry about myself sometimes. Okay, all of the time.
Like yesterday when the toilet bowl cleaner that contained bleach slipped from my hands as I was going down the stairs. There are now a few bleach spots on the stairs and my new shirt is also bleached. Amazing. I am never cleaning toilets again.
Or the other night when I was watering flowers. I was thinking to myself that a rain barrel would be super helpful beings I am watering my flowers EVERY STINKING NIGHT. At least I would be using a natural source of water.
And then I remembered that the reason I am watering is because we are in a drought and rain barrels aren’t exactly helpful without rain.
Yeah. My $100,000 education will only get me so far.
Nate isn’t pro-rain barrel. He thinks they are for hippies. I’m a wanna-be hippy. Hippies are awesome.
On another water/yard related note, I finally talked Nate into moving our sprinklers. (See, Nate is no hippy. He waters our yard. Just not well.)
He wouldn’t listen to me when I told him that the reason we have a dead spot in our yard is probably because it isn’t getting watered. Upon further investigation, I was proven correct. I just don’t get why he wouldn’t listen to me originally. Oh yeah, the rain barrel thing.
Our poor yard. I like having the blog as a diary of sorts. This will help me remember the hotness and driest summer ever. It thundered a lot the other night. No rain. Poor yard.
Do you have a rain barrel? Where’d you get it? Who is ready for some rain? Who loves when they can prove their husband wrong? (To clarify, that’s totally not me.)