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Work is slowly progressing on my soon to be fabulous backyard perennial garden border.

Whether my marriage will survive it is another matter entirely.

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I’m not sure why my husband has chosen to take every single little thing I say about this endeavor as a slight, an insult or God forbid…. a question of his manly ability, but he has.

I go out and try to help, but somehow everything I do just ends up pissing him off. He’s sucking the joy out of the process with his attitude and moodiness, but I will not let him ruin it.

I will not.

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If you remember, I advised we buy at least two pallets of stone back at the start. I knew we would need at least two full pallets, but no. My husband knew better and we bought one.

So when he reached the end of pallet number one and wasn’t anywhere near finished?

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He was less than pleased to admit we needed the second pallet I had wanted since the beginning and grumbled that I was gloating.

Me?

No. That would never happen.

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