Until I'm offered a book deal, Steve and I have a budget. And that budget forces us to do a lot of hard work ourselves. Hard work that I desperately wish I could pay someone else to do, but supposedly it's teaching me the value of a dollar or some bullshit our dads would say. Our latest project required ripping out four bushes, raking up the ground cover rocks, leveling out the dirt, laying the bricks, and assembling the chairs.
Ta da! Our do-it-yourself, rickety, wobbly, rundown, homemade front porch.
It looks better from afar.
And somehow, a day after finishing the project, we're still married. No one filed divorce papers, which seems inevitable every time we attempt assembling something together. Somehow we always let enough time pass between each purchase that requires assembly that we forget what hell it is and decide to try it again. I guess that's the secret to a successful marriage: amnesia.
Stay tuned for when we attempt to hang a hammock with just one tree.