Springing in the Backyard

Dear Jack,

Every year, we "fall in the backyard" and then "spring in the backyard." I like to have the yard be a pleasant place to play, but in the cold winter months and in the heat of summer, it's just not a place we like to hang out. So during Spring Break, it's time to make the backyard a fun place to be from now until the beginning of June or so.

With your Grandpa and your help (well, really with Nana and your dad's help and with Grandpa helping keep you occupied), I got all of the new pieces painted, the flower beds ready, the yard cleaned up, and the toys cleaned up and organized.

You got a wheelbarrow ride.

Then you helped to mow the grass, which was really nice of you.

Then, you and Grandpa and Daddy took care of the hedges out front. They trimmed.

You dragged the branches away.

In the end, I was very happy with the way the backyard looked. I got the new pinwheel garden planted.

The rock garden was refreshed.

New furniture was painted and placed on the deck.

And, my newest project, your window box was reseeded with chess pieces.

I have to say, since I know your Gram will wonder what happened to her old chess set, that this is one of my favorite random uses of objects. Nana asked me if I had seen the idea somewhere and I explained that no, your Gram was getting rid of things and these chess pieces were among them and I just looked at them and knew I could find a place for them in the backyard. Then your dad threw out all of the old pinwheels from your window box and I knew what I needed to do.

I do admit that the view from your window is a little like being under siege, but in a whimsical way, and I do close your blinds at night.

But if you are reading this as an adult and wondering where your childhood phobia of chessmen came from, I'm afraid you may have just found the answer. On the flip side, I guess you could be a chess grandmaster reading this with a different kind of "aha" moment.

Most likely, though, the chessmen will be just one more piece of a very silly childhood. At least that's my hope.

Love,
Mom