Does anyone else find that in order to get "certain tasks" done, the stamping of ones foot becomes a literal rather than a figurative act?
I have "discussed" (subtext ranted} about this before and I apologise to those who have followed this saga for a while now.
But it's still going.
Sagas tend to do that I suppose.
You see, I had got DH to remove this pond so that Mr Small wouldn't have some terrible accident in it.

All good.
Instead I had rubble and gravel to contend with.
Much safer.

Then, after much in the way of subtle feedback, the hints were taken and I was left with this

which, not unnaturally, leads to this (Mr Small being of Irish peasant heritage on one side of the family, you can see why the mud heap calls to him)

So now, at least half of my day is spent watching my son cover himself in dirt. The other half is then spent trying to remove it so that we aren't arrested by Social Services for child neglect when I go food shopping!
Well today we went to a Garden Show.
Simply delightful.
Inspiring one might say.
While DH was discussing the finer merits of which saw/power drill/ electric something or other was sharpest, made the most noise and largely unsuitable for children, I spend my time productively talking to these people. (As an aside, they filmed my parents' garden for their TV show. I think I missed the "garden gene sadly)
DH is away the week after next for a few days.
What the dear, unsuspecting DH doesn't know is that a lovely man is coming to install some nice synthetic lawn during that time.
I'm hoping he will see it as a thoughtful gesture on my part, or even an incredibly sweet gift....
ps if anyone wants to argue why I chose synthetic lawn over natural, I think the link is clear. DH whilst wonderful in many ways, is not a natural gardener (like myself really) This way, no nagging from me; no mowing; no reticulation; no allergens for asthmatic children; no maintenance etc etc. But over-riding all that. I will have a lawn. A lawn!!!!!