this will give you goosebumps ~ Home Decorating Ideas

Yesterday the pool guy got the filter pump operating, officially "opening the pool" for the season. My sons have been badgering me to go swimming for two weeks now. (Yes, they know we live in Wisconsin, but they feel that it's summer the instant the last of the snow melts.) I told them they had to let the filter run for at least 12 hours before I'd let them swim. Nevermind that the water is 57 degrees. Nevermind that there are leaves and dead worms and scum all over the pool. At 8:30 this morning they were ready and raring to go. (Think I'm kidding? Look how long Mr. D's shadow is in this picture--and see how most of the leaves still haven't opened on the trees beyond--I took this picture an hour ago.)

I am not making this up. They kept going back in.

After 15 minutes they'd had enough. For now.

One of my favorite bloggers, Suburban Correspondent over at The More, The Messier has started a grand tradition of showcasing her fridge every week when she cleans it out. Her fridge is legendary in the blogosphere--as is her courage to lay the contents of her fridge out for all to see and discuss (I still wonder what makes her save old oatmeal for later). Her fridge is so reknown that last summer when my neighbor and I were discussing blogs we read, she described "This woman with like 6 kids who is so funny." Either the blogosphere is a small place or Suburban Correspondent is just that cool. (She's just that cool.)

Anyway, since imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I give you a photo documentary of The Momvan, cleaned out weekly as a public service to my family:

The back of the Momvan has a gigantic wagon left over from hauling 90 Boy Scout geraniums into Mr. D's office for delivery last night. Also, 2 duffel bags with sparring gear, jumper cables, 2 blankets, bungee cords, tire gauge, flower flats and Reese's Peanut Butter Cup wrapper.

Much geranium dirt, a baseball glove, whiffle ball, nunchuckas, thank you note from a teacher, first aid kit and some of Mr. G's artwork.Aaaaaaand--a baseball bat. I'm driving a gym locker on wheels. With enough potting soil to fill one of my potager beds.