Celebrating the end of one simple little project that turned into six months of construction, two nasty-grams from our
uppity vigilant neighborhood management assocation, one hissy fit thrown by yours truly at the brick masons who couldn't or wouldn't speak English, and countless raised eyebrows from the neighbors.
B is sooo proud of his new toy!
A little spit shine and she's ready to go...
Barbecued chicken. Yum!
It all started last fall when we decided to remedy the dead grass (or maybe non-existent grass is a better description) on the side of the house. The door below leads to the breakfast room and kitchen, so this is what I have to look at while I'm washing dishes or drinking my coffee in the morning.
The doggy door to the kennel in the garage is over here (beyond and to the left of this door,) so the dogs pad up and down this stretch all day long. They also hang out right there in the corner waiting for something - anything - to come by. Then they proceed to bark incessantly at it for the next fifteen minutes.
They are so bad.
Here they are trying to schmooze B into giving them some chicken.
Mmhmm, he's such a sucker. He fell for it.
Anyhow, we thought it would save the grass if we paved their pathway to the backyard.
We thought wrong.
They just walk beside the stone path now. And pee on my tulip magnolia as they go by.
I am dangerously close to putting me some beagles on that grill instead of chicken.