With each spring, well, springing, I have this odd sense of nesting. I have go to plant something, build something, or create something. But, given both my height, mass, and lack of opposable thumbs, I'm a bit limited. But not helpless.

Removing the old shrub and getting ready for the new tree.	I'm tuckered out after digging the hole; the boy watched.	Success!  (I'm going to take a nap.)